


The Hottest Days of Summer

by mmmdraco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Banshee Lydia Martin, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Creeper Peter, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Monster of the Week, Original Character Death(s), Post-Season/Series 03A AU, Sappy, Shower Sex, Subtly Changing Mythology To Make It Work For Reasons, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a text message asking Stiles if he wants to go swimming at the lake on the hottest day of summer. He's not sure he wants it to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't have any idea where this was going when I started it, but that changed about 2000 words in. So let's do this thing! The rating on this is pretty likely to go up later, but it's tame right now. Also, you can find me on tumblr [here](http://superhappygenki.tumblr.com) where I might occasionally talk about this thing as I write it.
> 
> Edit: On 3/16, I went through and changed the tense of the 4 existing chapters of this fic as well as fixing a few other things I'd overlooked. No actual content of the work has been changed.

It was the craziest thing, Stiles thought, that he'd never seen Derek's legs. He'd seen him shirtless so many times that he could probably draw his abs (although maybe on a stick figure because Derek was way too symmetrical for him to do even a little bit of justice), but Derek didn't seem to do the shorts-in-the-summer thing that virtually everyone else in Beacon Hills did and, to Stiles' knowledge, he wasn't much for tossing on a skirt either. It did make him wonder, though, what Derek's legs were like under all of that denim.

When it got to be the hottest day of the summer so far, Stiles found himself laying on the couch with the ceiling fan whirling around above him and the blinds closed and the air conditioning on and it was still just too hot. When he got a text that just said, " _Wanna go 2 the lake 2 swim? _, he shot back a " _yes. when?_ " without even looking at who the message was from. As far as he was concerned, the message could be coming from Coach Finstock possessed by a demon and it wouldn't matter both because the idea of a large body of water was amazing right now and because they'd dealt with worse in Beacon Hills.__

__" _Pick u up in 15_ " was the text he got back as he searched through his drawer of shorts to find the swim trunks he always shoved in there when he was putting away laundry because they seemed to taunt him if he put them in with something as mundane as his underpants and also the velcro on the back pocket had a bad habit of getting stuck on soft cotton. He had to take a moment to debate about it, but eventually decided to just toss them in a bag with a towel and sunscreen and change when they got there. _ _

__It was only after he'd wandered into the kitchen and scribbled out a note for his dad and finished off the rest of the orange juice from the carton that he realized he still hadn't checked the message to see who'd sent it. It was just like him. He noticed the tiny details and the big picture, but there was still a lot of stuff in between that kind of just escaped him. The name in the corner of the screen was one of those things and it continued to escape him for a long moment even as he stared at it. It wasn't until he heard the horn outside that it really hit him, especially in the face of the impressive evidence of the black Camaro in his driveway. Derek Hale had asked him to go swimming. He guessed the heat must make werewolves just a little delusional._ _

__It took him longer than he wanted to think about to lock up, his fingers not quite as sure on their grip as he was sure that he was probably hallucinating, too. He was still a little sure that something else was up when the passenger window opened and suddenly Peter was waving at him. "Get in behind me." Great. Because going swimming was a smart thing to do when there was a guy of questionable mental health around. Still, the blazing sun and the abject curiosity let him move forward and slide onto the leather seats already hoping against hope that there was a place to park in the shadiest of shady places because hot leather burned like hell._ _

__There was no one else in the backseat and Stiles started to ask questions, but his mouth mostly just fell open to speak and then stayed that way in shock because Derek was wearing shorts. Well, okay. They were cut-off jeans. But they were still cut so that from his vantage point in the back seat, he could see a whole four inches of pale flesh above his knee. It was an amazing sight and he could only really see a little sliver of the whole picture, but he'd get the chance to see the whole thing once they got to the lake and that was somehow amazing. "So, is anyone else meeting us there?" He asked only because the idea of being invited along solely to be there with the last vestiges of the Hale family was kind of strange._ _

__Derek didn't reply. His fingers were hard at work on the driving thing as though the Camaro needed constant attention just to move forward. Peter seemed happy to turn his head so that he could see Stiles out of the corner of his eye. "Well, I went through Derek's contacts and invited just about everyone, but you were the only one to actually say yes."_ _

__That explained a lot, actually. Peter and his weird fixation on hanging out with the younger kids only made the gap between them and Derek seem less strange and it was way more rational to imagine Peter grabbing Derek's phone and going to town than it was to imagine Derek inviting him of his own accord. He reached forward and let his hand fall on Derek's shoulder. "If you don't want to do this, you can just drop me back off at home."_ _

__There was a flash to Derek's eyes that Stiles wasn't even sure he'd seen, but he didn't stop or turn around. "No. It's okay. We're just going out to a little beach I know about. We used to camp there sometimes."_ _

__Stiles was proud of himself for not asking any questions like who constituted the 'we' in question there. If he thought about it, each possible answer seemed more dismal than the rest. Stiles had lost his mom. Derek... had lost everyone. His family. His pack. Most of his new pack. Sure, Peter was still around... even after the burns and coma and, well, death, but that seemed more like Derek was just clinging on to whatever he thought he had left. Isaac was there...ish. But now he was kind of part of the whole Scott deal. Stiles knew that feeling, knew all about being a clinger, and he understood it in Derek. It was the thing that made him understand finally why Derek didn't just cast him aside. Stiles was pack. Or at least as much pack as anyone else in Derek's life right now, even though he was also kind of part of the whole Scott deal. They'd worked together enough that it counted somewhere in Derek's mind. It had to. Because it counted in Stiles' head. He didn't know if he understood 'pack' like Derek did, but if Derek wanted to cling to him... who was he to turn him away? "Cool," is all he said, though, because the things in his head didn't always translate well to words._ _

__It wasn't a long drive to the area Derek had talked about, so Stiles knew it was on the west side of the lake which was a good thing. It meant it got the morning sun, but it would be cooling off sooner rather than later. Or something. He didn't go to the lake much. It was probably why he hadn't thought of it in the first place when he woke up to the temperature already pushing toward triple digits. There was a little drive through the woods to where Derek finally parked and Stiles grimaced as the car shut off and the heat seemed to close in around him. It made him quick to open the door and slide out to where there was at least air circulation. They'd parked in the woods so there was actually quite a bit of shade, but he still feared for the backs of his thighs when they came back to the vehicle. He couldn't see the beach, though, and wondered just how far away they were._ _

__"This way," Derek called and started to head into the woods and Stiles rushed to keep up, his bag banging against the side of his knee. It was a few minutes walk into the woods before they suddenly ended and there was the beach. It was tiny, really; big enough for two tents and a campfire and not much else. But what it lacked in space it made up for with blissful shade and a gentle breeze that seemed to catch there and swirl around. Stiles held up his bag and gestured toward a copse of evergreens that were clustered tightly enough that it blocked the line of sight from where they were standing. "Just gonna change real quick." He did, though he maybe accidentally leaned against the bark and maybe got a streak of sap on his shoulder and maybe nearly fell over when his shoe caught on the little net that made up the kind of underwear-like lining of his swim trunks because he didn't want to kick off his shoes back here where there was so much more than sand to stick to his feet. He managed, though, and then walked back out to the beach, dropped his bag in the sand, and kicked off his shoes before diving for his sunscreen. He was pale and he knew it and he didn't tan so much as blister so it was a necessity._ _

__It was a fairly new tube of sunscreen so it didn't take much coercing to get the sunscreen to come out to apply everywhere he could reach. But then there was that moment when he realized that while he could physically touch every place on his back, he couldn't smooth sunscreen across it. There were only two other people there and it was tempting to just go without and get sunburn in the shape of some convoluted trapezium on his back, but then there was Derek in front of him still in those cut-off shorts and he was holding out his hand. "Give it to me. I'll get your back." It was enough to make Stiles wonder if maybe Derek's hearing was good enough that he could actually hear thoughts. Because if werewolves were a thing, then why wasn't mind reading? Still, he dropped the sunscreen into Derek's outstretched palm and went to turn, realizing as he dropped his head forward that he could actually look at Derek's legs while this is happening._ _

__They were surprisingly scrawny. Well, they weren't bird legs or anything, but they looked small compared to the rest of Derek's body and they were liberally covered in dark hair and no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find anything else of note. It kind of made sense. Derek didn't have freckles or moles anywhere that Stiles had seen, so it made sense that he wouldn't have them on his legs but it threw him for a second that there weren't any scars. It also made sense, of course. Derek was born a werewolf with the super healing and everything. If he'd fallen off his bike and skinned his knees and elbows as a kid, it would have healed. Stiles' own knees were a catalogue of the injuries of his childhood. There were still giant knee-sized bandages in the medicine cabinet at home leftover from the time he'd tried to go rollerblading and had ended up kind of skidding along down a sidewalk on one knee._ _

__That's when Derek's fingers hit his back and began to rub the sunscreen everywhere at once. Okay, not at once. But Derek's hands were big and did a good job of spreading it across his skin. "You're supposed to put this on a half hour before you go in the sun, you know," Derek said and Stiles just turned to look at him. "What?"_ _

__Stiles shook his head and took the tube of sunscreen back, tossing it in his bag. "Nothing. I just didn't think you ever worried about this stuff. Werewolves don't exactly get skin cancer."_ _

__"We can still get sunburn." Derek shucked off his shirt in one swift motion and then toed off his shoes next to where Stiles' were, dropping the shirt on top before heading toward the water where Peter was already swimming._ _

__Stiles unearthed his towel from his bag to lay it on top of everything else and headed down to the water. It was cool against his toes as he first stepped in, but not so much that he hesitated. Instead, he got to where he was submerged to around his thighs and then just dove underwater, swimming forward with his eyes closed and coming up surprisingly close to Peter. He backed away a bit, the motion of his arms sending ripples of waves toward Peter. He could still touch the bottom here, but just barely._ _

__Suddenly, he was pushed underwater and he struggled for a moment before finding his footing and pushing upward with all of his strength even though there was silt or something layered over the sand on the bottom of the lake and it was gross, but it was better than drowning. When he sputtered back to the surface, he swung around to glare at Derek who was thankfully not laughing but instead looking sheepish as all hell. "What the fuck, Derek? I save you from drowning and also being killed from a lizard man and you try to drown _me_?"_ _

__Derek just stared at him for a second before saying in a voice as sheepish as his look, "I slipped. On the silt. Sorry. You okay?"_ _

__"You know I'm supposed to be the clumsy one, right?" Stiles slid a hand back through his hair to take care of some of the water dripping down his face and took off swimming a moment later. He heard someone calling his name, but ignored it in favor of the feel of the water around him. They were in something of a little cove without the boat traffic that the rest of the lake probably got and it was only a few hundred yards to the other side from where he was and he wanted to be away from Peter who creeped him out and Derek who wasn't supposed to look sheepish. It took him a while to get to the other side. He was a strong swimmer, just not a fast one, and the water felt too good as the sunlight just seemed to burn everything it touched. He hung onto a branch of a submerged tree for a bit just looking at the trees on the other side and then suddenly there was enough splashing behind him that he turned to look and of course it was Derek. It was Derek because he didn't know how to talk and fix things, but he knew how to put himself places where he feels he needs to be and Stiles could kind of appreciate that because he was a talker himself but he had this problem of not being good with the first move._ _

__"I said I was sorry." Derek tread water instead of holding on to the branch and Stiles glanced at it again. Rowan that had been struck by lightning. Mountain ash. He let his hand drop from it and tread water as well, slowly moving closer to Derek._ _

__A part of him wanted to swim back and grab his things and leave, except it was over a hundred degrees outside now and he didn't even want to think about walking in this heat. He rolled his eyes and let one leg kick out underwater to catch Derek's shin. "Sorry just expresses that you have regret. It doesn't mean I have to automatically forgive you for making my life flash in front of my eyes. That seems to happen a lot around you. And, you know? My life isn't exactly boring, but it really just seems like a tightrope walk from one moment of fighting for life and another around you."_ _

__"Sorry about that, too." Derek was treading water in a strange way that Stiles hoped meant he was having to rub his shin or something under the slightly murky way. "You weren't meant to get mixed up in all of this, you know."_ _

__Stiles turned over onto his back, letting his feet kick at the water as he floated. "Yeah, but then I'd never have met you."_ _

__Derek swam up beside him. "And wouldn't that have been better?"_ _

__"It would have been boring." Stiles let his hand glide through the water to splash at Derek. "Come on. Float with me."_ _

__"I can't float." Derek shrugged and began to swim in slow circles around Stiles._ _

__Thinking of what he's seen of the other man' body, Stiles nodded. It made sense. "Well, if you'd eat sometimes instead of surviving on the nutrition that brooding provides..." Water suddenly hit his face and he sputtered and lost his balance on the top of the water, his feet sinking back under him._ _

__"So go out to eat with me." Derek was matter-of-fact with the words and Stiles was struck dumb by it. "Come on. Let's go back to the other side." He swam off and Stiles was quick to give chase._ _

__Derek beat him back by a lot, but Stiles was still content to tread water a little way out from the beach while Derek went further in where he could stand. Score one for body fat. "Burgers," he said suddenly. "And curly fries."_ _

__"So the usual." Derek turned to grin at him and Stiles wasn't sure if he was weirded out by the fact that Derek knew this, but the grin made him grin, too._ _

__"Unless you'd rather grab a salad," Stiles deadpanned and headed further inland so that he could also find his footing. Peter was looking at them from where he'd been doing short little laps back and forth, but not saying anything. The watching seemed worse than anything that could come out of his mouth._ _

__Derek let out a noise that Stiles might call a snuffle if he were asked to describe it. "I do eat my vegetables, Stiles. Wolves might do the carnivore thing, but my human stomach likes the omnivore thing."_ _

__"Is there anything you don't like to eat?" Stiles asked it on a whim. He'd kind of figured that werewolves don't really seem to have allergies in the same way that regular old humans did._ _

__"Guacamole. I'm a salsa guy myself. Maybe pico de gallo." Derek moved further up toward the beach and sat in the water with the tiny waves sloshing against his chest._ _

__Just judging by his face and his legs, Stiles wondered if Derek waxed his chest. Somehow, that was a thought that he balled up and tucked into the back of his consciousness to examine another day. For now, they were discussing chips and Stiles feels qualified to voice his opinion. "Kind of a queso guy myself." It occurred to him that Peter was hearing every word they say, but that wasn't as disturbing as the way his next few words slipped out of his mouth completely unbidden. "How about we move our date from the burger place to a Mexican place?"_ _

__"Date?" Stiles didn't hear the word so much as he saw Derek mouth it, but it was still pretty obvious. "Guess I'll drop my uncle off first."_ _

__If Stiles had known it would be as easy as making a joke, he might have asked Derek out for Mexican months ago. "What? You don't think you need a chaperone to keep your hands to yourself around my manly body?" And that was a joke. He knew it. Because between the two of them, Derek was the obvious guy; the manly man._ _

__"Are you saying you _want_ a chaperone around to make sure I keep my hands off of your manly body?" Derek was just sitting there smiling and Stiles was glad he could float well because his knees maybe went a little weak at the sight and the idea._ _

__The moment was broken as Peter finished another of his little mini-laps and looked between them. "I expect you to bring back tamales for me."_ _

__"I'll drop you off at your place and then swing back around to pick you up later. Six-ish." Derek was still grinning and Stiles was glad that the water was murky enough to hide that his teenage body was being impossibly teenage._ _

__"Sure." He moved a little closer to the shore and then a bit more until he was finally sitting about a foot from Derek which was nice because he hadn't really been working out much since it was summer so the swimming was taking a lot out of him._ _

__The sun was hot against his shoulders and the day wasn't at all what he envisioned it would be, but it was still better than sweltering to death alone at home. Even if Peter was a creeper who liked tamales._ _


	2. Chapter 2

The drive back to Stiles' house wasn't that bad since Derek told him he could lay his damp towel down over the leather seats to keep his legs from catching on fire. It was around four by the time he extracted himself from the backseat and the sun was still high in the sky, reminding him that he'd left the air going inside and the fan so maybe it wouldn't be sweltering like the Camaro had been when they first got in. "So, six-ish?" he asked through Peter's rolled down window.

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, but gave him a nod. "Six." That's the only word he said before beginning to back out of the driveway. Peter waved at him and it was the catalyst to send Stiles indoors.

The note to his dad was where he'd left it and there was a message on the answering machine saying his dad would be home late and Stiles thought that was actually kind of great because questions from his dad were kind of difficult to get around without lying and he doesn't want to have to lie about going on something resembling a date with Derek Hale. Because, sure, they'd joked about it. But maybe Derek could actually joke around when there weren't unspeakable horrors happening.

He took a shower because even though he had spent like 4 hours in the water, it was lake water of questionable cleanliness and the amount he'd sweated that day made him uncomfortable. It wasn't a cold shower, but it was kind of lukewarm. He told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that there was a chance that he and Derek had been doing something maybe kind of like flirting earlier. 

His hair was short enough that he didn't have to really worry about it, but he did anyway. There was still too much heat in the house for his liking so he didn't pull out the hair dryer that was on its last legs since it had been his mom's and hadn't been used in years except for when he did something like reading a book in the bathtub and dropping it. Instead, he just rubbed his towel vigorously against his head until his hair was all standing up in a way he didn't hate and then spent five minutes looking back and forth between the Axe he liked the smell of and the Old Spice that no one had ever told him he wore too much of. In the end, he went for the Old Spice because Derek had those delicate werewolf senses and there was nothing worse than turning your dinner companion off of their food because of the way you smelled.

Clothes were next and Stiles took forever going between different things. No white because he'd never met a sauce that didn't have a carnal lust for his shirt. Nothing not cotton because he'd been checking the weather and it was supposed to stay in the 90s until 2am or so. In the end, he dug a black tank from the bottom of his underwear drawer and draped a short-sleeved button-up over it, unbuttoned, with a pair of khaki shorts. He ran to the kitchen to make sure there was nothing horrible for his dad in the fridge and to write a new note for him promising to be back before ten. He had his keys and phone and wallet in his pockets and then he was waiting at the front door, looking out occasionally to see if Derek was there yet. If it were cooler, he'd wait outside. Since that wasn't the case in the slightest, he courted the chance that he'd miss Derek's arrival. He didn't, though.

What he did do was to open the door just as the Camaro hit the driveway and he tried to turn it into something where he didn't look desperate by running to get the mail and bringing it inside before he locked up, waving at Derek as he did so. He was extra glad to slide into the passenger seat of the Camaro where the air vents were already angled to point directly at his face. "Hey. So, where were you thinking of going?"

Derek shrugged and Stiles eyed him up. Gone were the cut-off jeans from earlier, but now he had on the real deal in that skinny leg or whatever he wore and a white t-shirt that didn't quite seem up to holding the circumference of his biceps. "Mama Tio's?"

Stiles nodded approval as he put on his seatbelt and then they were off. He didn't talk because he wasn't sure what to say and while that usually didn't stop him, he also usually understand a situation better than this one. As they reached the street where Mama Tio's was, he finally decided that friends with flirting was a good enough premise to proceed on and did just that. "So, we doing the dutch thing or are you paying for this and I'll get the ice cream later?"

There was a thick eyebrow raised at those words, but Derek seems to play along a little. "Well, I was going to do the dutch thing, but now that you mention ice cream..." He parked a little way away from the door where the Camaro blended some into the sea of dark cars around them and he was out the door before Stiles could even get his seatbelt off. He looked for Derek, letting out a sigh of disgust that he was left behind, but then his door was opened and Derek leaned in and undid his seatbelt. "Sorry. That sticks sometimes. I really need to get it fixed."

Stiles swallowed roughly because he could tell that Derek was wearing Old Spice, too, and he wanted to joke that they wore matching deodorant but he was distracted by the fact that Derek Hale just opened his door as though he were some princess or Hollywood starlet and he pushed his way up to a standing position. "You don't know how to fix your own car?" 

Derek leaned one arm against the door frame and glowered. "I know how to do the basics. Change a tire. Check the fluids. Know that there's no such thing as headlight fluid. But there are people who have gone through training to know how to do all of the things I don't know and if I give them money? They're happy to exchange that for services."

Scoffing, Stiles pushed away from the car and headed toward the restaurant door. "You should at least learn how to change your oil. And that seatbelt thing? I'm pretty sure I can fix it. My Jeep did the same thing last year."

"Hmph." Derek was suddenly right beside him and holding open the door into the restaurant, liberally draped with advertisements for Corona over fake stucco walls heavily daubed with red and green paint. But the smells of everything were heady and Stiles was kind of starving now so he was quick on the heels of the guy seating them, and pulled out a chair for Derek with a smirk.

"You got the doors for me. Let me pull out your chair." Derek eyed him up for a long moment before sitting down with a flourish and letting Stiles push the chair in for him. He sat across from Derek when that was done and took his menu from the host, flipping it open as they were promised that their waiter would be right there. "Don't emasculate me and I won't emasculate you," he muttered under his breath, knowing that Derek will hear it.

Derek opened his own menu and said toward the page of appetizers and salads, "But what if I like it?"

Their waiter arrived with chips and salsa and a frown. "Hi. I'm Jose. What can I get you to drink?"

Stiles looked to Derek first because he was still reeling from his words, but muttered out, "Just water."

"Do you have any drink specials tonight?" Derek gave their waiter his most charming smile and Stiles wanted to jump across the table at him, especially when the waiter's frown turned into a tight-lipped smile.

"We've got Corona for two bucks a bottle and margaritas for five." 

"Corona with two wedges of lime, please." Derek glanced at the menu. "And a bowl of queso."

Stiles leaned forward as the waiter walked away, just a little annoyed that Derek wasn't carded. He could've been 20. A very ridiculously buff and hairy 20, but still 20. And yet... "Aww, you got me cheese. Is a ring next?"

"No. I have to meet your family first. Oh, wait. I've met your dad. He's arrested me." Derek's index finger trailed along the menu before coming to a stop on something. "You said you preferred queso but you weren't talking. And you got water. Do I look broke to you?"

Stiles thought about it for a moment because he realized he's never really thought about it at all. But, to his knowledge, Derek didn't have a job. But what he did have was a pretty new Chevy Camaro, a leather jacket that wasn't all worn out, a decent apartment for, y'know, not having a job... "I guess the whole lack of medical bills thing really helps with the college fund, huh?"

"Also the insurance payout from the fire," Derek said in something that was a little too close to a growl for Stiles' liking.

Stiles bowed his head a little. "Sorry. We're just getting off on all of the wrong feet here, aren't we? Or... paw?" Derek rolled his eyes, but there was a quirk of a smile that crossed his face and Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. "So. Are you a carne guy or a pollo guy or...."

"Carnitas. And you?"

"Something like that. I'm getting the Pancho Villa." Stiles wanted to laugh. Derek's Spanish accent was abysmal.

Derek's brow furrowed. "Where is that on the menu?"

Stiles flipped over the back page. "The Mama Tio's specialties there. Pork, beans, cheese, onions... all rolled in a tortilla and covered in this pork and bean chili and more cheese. It comes with rice and what might be called a salad in opposite land where shredded iceburg and a couple of chunks of tomato is a salad. But the rest of it's amazing."

"We'll get two of those then, I guess. That sounds good. And there's that thing they say about dates... if one person has onions, the other person should too."

"Dude, why would-" But Stiles was cut off by Jose serving up their drinks and his bowl of queso and it was a good thing because he realized it for himself. Kissing. Derek Hale was alluding to kissing. He looked up at Jose, his jaw set. "Pancho Villa. Two of them."

Jose looked to Derek for confirmation and headed off a moment later. Derek picked up his Corona and placed one lime at the top of the bottle, shoving it in so that the liquid foamed before he took a long swig of it. The other lime wedge sat in the bowl still. It wasn't until Stiles had picked up a chip and dunked it in the queso that Derek picked one up, taking the salsa for himself. There was no way a guy was supposed to look that good shoveling food into his face, Stiles thought as hot queso dip dripped on his chin. "Why did you agree to come today?" Derek asked, his fingers clutching another chip.

"It was hot as hell outside today. If I'd had the thought to go to the lake? I would have replied back with 'Already here, come find me" or something. Why did Peter invite everyone?" Stiles took a long sip of his water, slightly annoyed that he's forgotten to ask for a straw.

Derek chewed for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Tomorrow. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Stiles shrugged because he wasn't really sure, but he pulled out his phone and checked anyway and had to bite his lip. "Pool party. Lydia's house." He paused. "Want me to see if I can get you an invite?"

"Yeah." Derek looked up like he was shocked by his own words. "If it's just me and not Peter... She might be a little more comfortable. She's an interesting ally."

"Ally. Sure." Stiles liked that word for the relationship that has formed between him and Lydia. He'd seen her have too many relationships with other guys to really legitimately think that he had a chance. And having gotten to know her better? There was a part of him that was glad she'd never given him the time of day like he'd thought he wanted. "Do you have actual swim trunks or just the cut-offs? Because, you know, you could cut those a little shorter and do the daisy duke thing. Totally you." The sneer he got in return was kind of adorable.

"How... serious are you about..." Derek's paused in the middle of his own sentence to take a sip of his Corona and Stiles broke a chip in half in annoyance.

"About this being a date? At least as serious as I am about the fact that your lack of body fat concerns me until I remember that you are hot in a multitude of ways."

Derek was frozen, his fingers just grazing the salsa as he dipped a chip in. "I was going to ask about the ice cream. But I got distracted because I'm pretty sure I just saw Isaac. With Allison." He paused. "But, thank you? Sorry, Laura always used to say I didn't know how to take a compliment. I don't think that's changed."

"I'm more serious about this being a date than I am about the ice cream. Because, seriously, the portions here are huge." Stiles paused, too. "And whatever might be going on with Isaac and Allison is a them thing and not an us thing. But I think Allison is at least going to be there tomorrow." He sent off a text to Lydia about inviting Derek before he could forget about it.

After abandoning the chip in the salsa and licking off his fingers, the second lime was picked up and plunged into the Corona and Derek took a few more swigs until it was nearly gone. "It really seems like the universe just kept throwing you at me until I could stand you."

From Derek, it felt like a love confession and Stiles was glad this time that Jose popped up and brought their food before he could speak because he wanted to savor those words a little while longer. "Remember that one time it dropped me on top of you?"

"I do. And I remember that pool all too well." Derek unrolled his silverware from his napkin and dug into his food, a soft moan of pleasure issuing forth.

Stiles got a text and looked at it as he unrolled his own silverware. "Lydia said sure, but bring hot dogs? I've apparently got buns." 

Derek chuckled at Stiles' phrasing, but nodded. "Well. I'm not sure if tomorrow's the best day for me to put my weiner in your buns, but if that's what the universe wants... It'll be our third time in the water together anyway. Third time's a charm and all of that."

Shoving a forkful of his food into his mouth, Stiles rolled his eyes. "Don't flirt. You're horrible at it. Puns and cliches? Why don't you just hit me?" He groaned. "Have you liked me since I almost had to cut your arm off?"

"Maybe." Derek looked slightly ashamed and Stiles kicked him under the table. "What was that for?"

"Footsie. Very violent footsie." Stiles dug into his food with gusto and smiled, a string of cheese curling on his lip as he felt Derek's foot nudge against his. He nudged back and soon there was a very gentle war happening under the table as they ate. As Stiles took his last bite, he let both of his feet curl around one of Derek's ankles, clutching him in place. "So, I'm not bothering with this tragedy of a salad and if I get it in a cup? I think I can manage the ice cream. Or... we could share."

Derek called over Jose and asked for an order of tamales to go and the check. "Okay. Ice cream it is. Wbat kind do you like?"

"Anything. Salted caramel and chocolate and rum raisin and butter pecan and just... if they make it into ice cream, I'll probably like it a little."

"It's summer so the Dairy Queen over on Nelson should be open." Derek leaned against the side of the table and dug out his wallet, pulling out $40 that he stuffed into the little leather folder that Jose brought over.

Remembering his childhood where his mom would take him there after going to the community pool in the summer, Stiles nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good." Jose came back with Peter's tamales and Derek's change but Derek only bothered with the takeout. Stiles let his feet drop from around Derek's ankle and got up, heading over to the door and opening it first. "After you, good sir." Derek laughed and Stiles has a strange twist in his stomach and he kind of wanted that sound as his ringtone.

When the tamales were secured in the floorboards in the back of the Camaro and they were both belted in, Derek drove them over to the little rundown Dairy Queen and they got out. Stiles managed the sticking seatbelt latch and made it to the window first, then looked at Derek. "Want to share a Jack & Jill?"

"What in the world is that?" Derek was grabbing napkins already as though he expected a mess. As Stiles already had two kinds of sauce on his shirt, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. 

"A sundae with chocolate and marshmallow sauce. I don't know why it's called that, but it's amazing." Stiles let his eyes wander over the board to find a suitable substitute, but suddenly Derek was at the window ordering a medium with two spoons. "Thanks," he said, pulling out his wallet and shoving Derek over with his hip so he could pay.

The ice cream was handed over a minute later and Derek led the way back to his car, sliding into the driver's seat once more. "So. How's this been as a first date?"

Stiles slid into the passenger seat and dug into the ice cream, savoring the mouthful. "I can't really say until it's over. But since I haven't had to call my dad to come shoot you and drive me home? I'd say you're holding strong."

"We'll see if I can stick the landing, then." Derek scooped up a bite of his own ice cream, eating it in the fading light of the setting sun.

Stiles watched as the sun's rays seemed to cast orange across Derek's face, amazed by it a little. "Wanna come over to my place early tomorrow and we'll do the sunscreen thing?"

Derek nodded. "Sure. And, what time is this thing happening?"

Swallowing a large mouthful a bit too quickly, Stiles grimaced. "Uh, starts at her place at 11?"

"I'll be at your place at ten-ish." Derek scooped up one more bite and pushed the rest of it toward Stiles who scraped the last bits of marshmallow and chocolate from the sides of the plastic cup before spooning the last bit of ice cream into his mouth.

"Like tonight's six-ish? That can work." Stiles opened the door and stepped out just far enough to toss their trash into a nearby trashcan. "Okay. As much as I'd love to do something else, my dad really likes that whole curfew thing. So, come back to my place and let me see if I can fix the seatbelt?"

Derek put the car into drive as his answer. They were both quiet on the drive back and Stiles rolled his eyes a bit when he smelled the tamales and his mouth watered. He was so full he couldn't manage one bite. Well, okay, maybe one. But he wasn't going to sneak one bite of Peter's tamales just to satisfy his curiosity. He wasn't sure the man would extend him the same courtesy.

When the Camaro pulled into Stiles' driveway, Stiles struggled with the seatbelt for a moment, then grinned at Derek as he finally got it open. "Stay here a sec." He ran to grab something from the back of his Jeep and returned, sliding back into the seat but on his knees. He held up a can of WD-40. "Okay, assuming you're having the same problem I was? This should work." He fit the spray straw into the slot for the seatbelt latch and sprayed back and forth for a moment, then grabbed the seatbelt and slid it in. The first time he went to release it, it caught just a little. When he did it again, it acted like a brand new latch. "There you go. I just saved you two hundred bucks."

With a laugh, Derek held out his hand and Stiles took it, slightly confused. "Thank you." It makes Stiles' breath catch in his throat for a second and it stayed there as Derek lifted his hand up to his mouth and licked off a little spot of marshmallow along the knuckle of his thumb. The feel of Derek's tongue on his skin... "And good night."

Stiles was about to ask what the rush was, but suddenly there was the squeak of the front door opening and it had to be his dad coming out to find out what was going on. "See you tomorrow. Ten-ish." He hopped out and hauled the WD-40 with him to the front door, spraying the hinges as his dad looked on, then checking that the squeaking was gone. "Something wrong, Dad?"

Still in his uniform pants, John squinted his eyes at Stiles. "You're home early."

"Yeah. And you've got grease on your chin. At least one of us is behaving." Stiles led the way inside.

"You were with Derek Hale?" His dad said it like a question, but the question in his eyes wasn't the same one.

"Not actually a murderer. Really kind of a big dork. He's in charge of hot dogs for Lydia's party tomorrow." He wasn't sure why he added the last bit on, but his dad nodded at the words like they had humanized Derek into someone he didn't need to be worried about. Stiles gestured upstairs. "I'm gonna head to bed. Get your laundry together and put it in the hall and I'll do it tomorrow."

He got up to his room and hit his own door with the WD-40 and, on second thought, his window. He set the can on the bedside table with everything from his pockets. His hand still seemed to tingle from the touch of Derek's tongue and he wondered, really wondered, whether this was even what he wanted, because Derek was older and kind of damaged and also a werewolf and maybe also kind of a well-meaning dick sometimes, but Stiles was beginning to think maybe he has a type that includes damaged and supernatural and kind of a well-meaning dick. Because Lydia was those things, too, and he's liked her for a decade. Only, now, she's not enough and Derek was... he was something different. Still a challenge, but Stiles was starting to get the idea that it was a challenge that maybe he could actually handle. 

He brushed his teeth and stripped down, going to bed naked because it was still warm enough for that. Tomorrow... could get interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

There were more packages of hot dog buns in a box sitting on the kitchen counter than Stiles thought they could possibly need for this pool party, but when Derek had sent him a text that morning to ask how many hot dogs he needed to buy, somehow Stiles had picked that moment for a little OCD where he needed the number of hot dogs to match the number of buns. So, 40. For two dozen or so people. When there were going to be burgers and chips and cupcakes. Well, there was always having a hot dog eating contest afterward?

Still, Stiles was dressed and ready to go with his box and a change of clothes and towel. It hit ten and he found himself leaning against the couch in wait for Derek. Ten flew by and suddenly the next few minutes took forever. He was checking the clock on the wall and the hour it feels like he's waited has only actually been ten minutes. But of course it was as he finally sank down on the couch proper that there was a knock at the door. And it was weird... because Derek had been to his house a few times now and Stiles was pretty sure the front door had never actually been part of the equation. So, it wasn't exactly shock that filled him to open the door to find Derek there, but it was something that edged more toward that than the expectation that ten o'clock had held. Still, Derek had told him ten-ish and ten minutes past was pretty close even if that would have counted as tardy in any of his classes. "Hey," was all he said, though.

Derek was scowling as he walked inside, not even actually looking at Stiles. "Peter was trying to get me to get him invited along. I didn't tell him where the party even was, but he saw the hot dogs. I stopped at the store on the way over to exchange them for a different kind so there's less likelihood he'll sniff us out and crash the party."

Stiles bit his bottom lip so that he didn't laugh. Derek looked so pissed off, but the story... Although if anyone would try to crash a party by sniffing out the largest concentration of scent of a particular kind of hot dog, it would be Peter. "It's okay. If he shows up, we'll shove him in the pool. And then maybe put the cover on." He walked toward the living room where he'd put out the sunscreen. "Well, let's rub each other off. Down. With the lotion." His eyes flew open as he spoke and he would want to crawl into a hole and die except for the fact that Derek smiled suddenly and it was such a change from the glower he'd walked in with that Stiles was actually kind of glad he'd made a Freudian slip.

"Take off your shirt," Derek said as he picked up the sunscreen and Stiles was quick to obey the command because he'd been too busy thinking the day before to try to really enjoy Derek's hands on him. The lotion was cool against his skin, though, but Derek's hand were not. They were warm like the sun. Not like yesterday's ridiculously blazing sunshine, but the sunshine when you just wanted to lay there basking in it because it was perfect. Derek's fingers dug in a little in the small of his back and it was like a massage and Stiles had to bite down on his lip again to keep from making embarrassing noises. His own fingers were buried in the back of an armchair because there was something intense about the way that Derek touched him, but it was a little better, a little more manageable, when Derek moved to spreading sunscreen across his shoulders. "Now do mine?"

Stiles nodded and turned, taking the sunscreen and putting a giant dollop in one hand. "Off with your-" he said, but Derek was already pulling off his shirt and turning so that his back was facing Stiles. For a second, he wasn't sure he'd got enough sunscreen. He rubbed the lotion between his hands and then placed one hand against each of Derek's shoulderblades, starting to work it across his skin in smooth motions. Everything was firm under his hands and it was amazing, made even more so when he did something that drew a growl from Derek and he could feel it kind of shaking through him. He made sure everything was covered, even his sides which seemed, inexplicably, to be just a little ticklish and the tops of his shoulders which tensed visibly under Stiles' touch. "There. Now we can just do the rest of ourselves." He said it both to maintain the illusion that he didn't want this as badly as his body was telling him he did and also because he didn't want to deal with the issues that would inevitably happen if he let Derek touch all of the skin he would be showing today. It was bad enough watching Derek rub it over his own chest. Stiles made a point to look down at his own body as he applied his sunscreen. At least that wasn't going to turn him on.

Glancing up at the clock, Stiles groaned. "We should head out." He pulled his shirt back on carefully and then headed to the kitchen for his box of hot dog buns and his bag of stuff. "Hey, do you wanna ride with me?"

Derek still hadn't put his shirt on by the time Stiles got back, but he was smiling so Stiles' eyes were drawn up to his face despite his interest in everything else. "I'll need to move my car, but sure."

Stiles nodded and pulled out his keys. "Well, come on then. I guess you've got the hot dogs in your car?" He was unsure for a moment about whether Derek knew that hot dogs sitting in a hot car weren't a great idea.

"In a cooler. Yeah. I'm going to go park at the church down the street to make sure I don't get in your dad's way, either. Just come pick me up." The shirt went on then and Stiles nodded in agreement. 

Derek headed out the door first and Stiles locked the door, heading over to his Jeep, suddenly glad he'd gotten tired of the clutter of fast food wrappers, receipts, junk mail, and other detritus that had been piled in the floorboards and had pulled over beside a Dumpster and gone to town. There was a McDonald's cup in the center console still, but Stiles pulled up awkwardly next to the trash can and leaned out to drop the cup in before following Derek down to the Methodist church down the street. The Camaro was parked when he gets there and Derek was getting out and hauling a backpack over his shoulder before picking up a large cooler. Stiles gestured for him to put it in the back and Derek did, then climbed into the passenger seat. "Welcome to my baby," Stiles said, his fingers tracing over a worn spot on the steering wheel. 

Putting on his seatbelt, Derek lifted his chin in acknowledgement. "It's nice. Have you ever been down on Sampson in her?"

Stiles looked confused for a moment. "The wheeling trail?" 

"Yeah." Derek had put his bag on his lap and looked through it, coming up with a tube of Chapstick that he applied, making Stiles look back and forth between that and the road for a bit.

Forcing his focus back onto the road, Stiles shook his head. "No. I mean... I go offroad a lot, but I've only really heard about that trail. I've never been on it. Have you?"

Derek started to shake his head, but stopped to turn his head to Stiles. "As a wolf I have. We go out to run there sometimes. We... could go wheeling a little later in the summer if you think you're up for it."

"I don't have a winch." Stiles exhaled sharply and looks to Derek. "But you kind of have the superhuman strength thing going on. Would you be willing to get out and push me out of the mud?"

There was a snort of laughter and Derek smiled again, enough that Stiles maybe went just a tiny little bit offroad as he turned up Lydia's driveway where several other cars were already parked. "I'll wear my old boots," he said as Stiles shifted into first and parked, engaging the emergency brake. Okay. So that was kind of another date.

They took a moment to grab bags and food and then headed up to the door together. Allison was actually the one to answer the door, already wearing a bikini with a cover-up over it. "Hey, guys. Just take the food through to the kitchen. Lydia's starting to panic that there isn't enough food since Jackson kind of invited the swim team _and_ the lacrosse team."

Stiles thanked his lucky stars for a moment that Danny was on the lacrosse team and had kind of gotten the town over the whole dudes liking dudes thing. Because Stiles had never really been open about the fact that he thinks he could potentially be attracted to just about anyone, but most people think he's pretty straight because of the Lydia thing. But Derek Hale was in his life now in some way that he can't really explain and if it was surprising that Stiles could maybe like someone who was so physically different from a short, waiflike, strawberry blond... Well, they could get over it. He hauled his buns to the kitchen.

Lydia squinted at Stiles, then pointed to the table. "Set them down over there." She pointed to Derek next, then crooked her finger at him, gesturing him closer. He sat the cooler down on top of the counter and she opened it. "Wow. You got the all-beef stuff. Good boy." She reached one hand into the cooler and her brow furrowed. "And you got a package of veggie dogs, too!" She let her hands go to her hips, arms akimbo as she stared at Derek. "Hmm. Okay, boys. You did good. Now go make sure Scott doesn't set himself on fire at the grill." 

Setting his things down on a chair, Stiles lead the way outside. Scott was pouring lighter fluid on the grill and Stiles covered his mouth for a second before running over to save Scott from himself... and to save the rest of the guests who'd arrived. "Hey, buddy? You know that's a gas grill with an igniter switch, right?" He patted Scott on the back and took away the lighter fluid. "Let's not make a propane tank explode. I had dreams about being an action hero as a kid, but I've watched Mythbusters. I've seen some things."

Derek grabbed the fire extinguisher from near the grilling station and readied it. Stiles shook his head. There was a pause and then Scott gave him the look he always gave Stiles when he thought he was doing so well at something only to discover he was screwing it up. "Sorry. I've only ever used charcoal. What do we do now?"

Stiles picked up a roll of paper towels and unfurled a few, picking up the grill grate and wiping it off, then soaking up as much of the lighter fluid as he could. "Okay," he said as he puts the grate back in place. "In theory? We wait a few for that to kind of evaporate. And then? Scott presses the button since he can heal if it catches him on fire. I'd volunteer Derek here, but I'm not sure about how hair grows back and people would notice if he suddenly had no eyebrows."

The wadded up paper towels were set off to the side and Stiles looked around at the pool to see who else he actually recognized. Danny was laying out on a beach towel already talking with a few other guys from the lacrosse team. No one was in the pool yet and Stiles realized that it was kind of a tragedy. "Come on. Let's go change. If there might be an explosion? I hear you're more likely to survive the shockwaves if you're underwater." He shrugged at Scott's hang dog look. "What? I would look incredibly awkward if I were suddenly hairless."

Derek huffed out a burst of laughter and headed toward the house again. "We'll be back in a few, Scott."

There were enough rooms in the house that they didn't have to try to deal with the awkwardness of sharing a room to change in, though Stiles was sufficiently creeped out by finding a pair of panties laying on the bed that didn't seem to be designed to actually cover anything. He was pretty sure that he'd had bandages that consisted of more material.

It was only when Stiles headed back outside that he saw Derek. He's not in cut-off jeans today, but what he is in are black swim trunks that don't require Stiles to use much of his imagination at all. They are tight and small and only a step closer to decency than a Speedo... and Stiles was kind of glad. "You like things tight around you, don't you?" It wasn't until after the words were out of his mouth that he clamped his mouth shut to keep in any further unintentional double entendres.

Derek eyed him up and down even though he was wearing the same trunks as yesterday. "I think the real question here is whether you like it."

His mouth falling open, Stiles turned to look around to make sure no one else was listening only to discover that Scott was waving at him and giving him a thumbs up. "Shut up, Derek. I think Scott got the grill going and I'm pretty sure Lydia expects us to help handle all of the meat." He paused to rub his fingers across his eyelids. "You know what I mean. Hamburgers. Hot dogs. Just come help me?"

"Sure thing." Derek walked by his side and Stiles tried not to think about how that kind of felt a little right. "The hair does grow back, you know."

Looking over in surprise, Stiles managed a thoughtful, "Huh?"

"If it burns. The hair grows back. It can take a little extra time, but it does. My sister Laura found that out the hard way the first time she got her legs waxed." He faltered a little at the look Stiles gives him. "We were sharers."

Stiles had to stop and hold on to the arm of a chaise lounge for a second. "You? A sharer? That's... Wow. That's like finding out that Santa Claus isn't real."

Derek gave him a steely look. "What do you mean Santa isn't real?"

"You, um..." Stiles swallowed, suddenly afraid for his life. Granted, okay. He could see it. If werewolves are real, then why not Santa? 

"I'm kidding, Stiles." Derek patted his shoulder and Stiles nodded. Okay, yeah. Take a moment to feel like his life is in danger and then get rewarded by Derek's hands on him? Totally okay.

Lydia's eyes narrowed as they came in the door to the kitchen. "What's taking you guys so long? Get out there and actually cook the food. You are men. Since you didn't kill the meat? Grill it."

An aluminum tray was handed to Derek full of everything to go on the grill and another was handed to Stiles that was waiting to hold the finished products. "Yes, ma'am," Stiles said and booked it before he could find out whether Lydia minded the term.

With the trays set up for Scott, Stiles looked back at the pool. There were half a dozen people in it now all clustered in the shallow end and he sighed because it was hot outside, if not as hot as the previous day, and he was stuck by the grill of all places. He let out a sigh and then suddenly he was being scooped up in Derek's arms. "We'll be back in a few, Scott," Derek said in a rush of words before taking a big step toward the pool and jumping in with Stiles held against his chest.

The splash was almost deafening and water got in all of his orifices, but Stiles didn't care. When he floated up to the surface, blinking away chlorinated water, there was Derek grinning at him. "Seriously?"

Derek glanced down toward where the steps into the pool were. "I wanted to avoid the crowd."

"You're something else, Derek." Stiles let one foot ease through the water to graze against Derek's knee.

With a smirk, Derek leaned closer. "Yeah. I'm a werewolf. I thought you knew."

That's when Lydia dropped a bowl of potato salad and screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

Lydia's scream was one of the banshee ones she did and Stiles' heart sank to the bottom of the pool because that meant that someone was dead. Or going to die. Or something. Since Lydia wasn't exactly sure yet, no one else was. There might have been something about banshees in the bestiary, but since Lydia wasn't exactly dangerous to them, he hadn't been compelled to check. By the time he got out of the pool and over to Lydia, there was already a small crowd of people around her. Allison was cupping Lydia's hands in her own and Scott was beside her on the other side, but looking off into the distance. Somehow, no one had asked yet why she screamed. So Stiles did.

Looking down at the potato salad, Lydia groaned. "I spent all morning making that. Of course this happens." Her gaze sharpened, though, as she looked around. "Scott, get back on the grill. The potato salad might be ruined, but let's try not to do that to all of the food. And, Stiles..." That's when she tilted her head to one side and walked toward the fence around the pool. "I saw a man without a head."

Stiles had followed her, sticking close to make sure he heard whatever she said. "So, what, like blood spurting up because someone had chopped it off?"

"No." Lydia shook her head and turned back toward the mess where Allison was using the broken pieces of bowl to scoop the potato salad into a grocery bag. "It was probably our gardener, Max. He likes to scare me. I overreacted or something. Can you please just keep Scott from burning things?"

Only Derek had apparently heard her and was over at the grill flipping things and checking them and filling up the aluminum tray with some of the food that had actually cooked enough. Stiles nodded and glanced at Allison again. "Do you want me to run to the store for potato salad?"

Her eyes rolled as she spoke. "No. Objectively, there's enough food. Or, at least, there should be." She moved over to the end of the pool and waved her arms above her head, calling out, "Sorry, guys! Thought I saw my neighbors skinny dipping and they're really old and not hot." Since everyone on their side of the pool knew that wasn't the case, there was a long moment of silence.

Derek walked over and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "A man without a head. Do you really think Lydia would see a guy faking that and scream... like that?"

Stiles shook his head. "No. But I also think that she's been stressing herself out about things lately so maybe she hallucinated or something." His attention was drawn away from Lydia, though, because Derek was still kind of glistening here and there from where his hair was dripping and it was tracing along the lines of his muscles and was kind of amazing. "I'm gonna hop back in the pool." He did, sending a splash of water up that hit Isaac where he was crouched down and scrubbing at the potato salad coating the concrete. He told himself it was because the water was just a nicer feel than the heat and that it had nothing to do with the fact that awkward boners were way easier to conceal in the water.

It took all of five minutes before Scott looked out from behind the grill to tell them that there was enough food for everyone to start in on and Stiles groaned because he had just started splashing Derek where he'd been sitting on the edge of the pool and letting his feet trail in the water. Still, food. He swam over to where Derek was and climbed up next to him even though there was a ladder only a few feet away. "Okay, dude, let's go shove some wieners in our mouths," he said because the urge to just tease the hell out of Derek was still pretty high and it was still amazing that Derek was letting him.

"Hmm. Too bad I didn't buy footlongs. I mean, you can handle those, right?" And Stiles' mouth dropped open because Derek was teasing him back and he was not seriously saying it was that long, was he? Because while that's impressive, it was kind of a waste.

Stiles shrugged and made his way to where the plates were, filling his with chips and baked beans and cole slaw and two hot dogs. There were too many people around for him to reply to Derek like he wanted to, but that didn't matter. Because he just kind of sidled off to the side and looked at Derek until he met his gaze, then licked his lips and opened his mouth as wide as he could, eating half of one of the hot dogs in that one bite. And, sure, okay. The biting part of it didn't look great and his face probably looked ridiculous as he chewed, but Derek was laughing and that meant that everything was okay. They ended up kind of standing near each other at the end of the long table covered with food and eating and there wasn't so much silence as a lot of chewing noises, but it was still kind of nice.

After everyone had eaten, one of the guys on the swim team brought out a beach ball and suddenly there was a giant free-for-all volleyball game of sorts going on in the pool. With a shrug of his shoulders, Stiles hopped in the pool again and Derek was suddenly right there with him and they were drawn into the game and it was nice. The water was splashing around them and it was both nice to just do something like this with friends and to watch Derek's muscles flex as he slammed his palm against the ball and sent it back toward Danny who only kind of got under it and sent it flying wide. Stiles didn't even think anything of it to use one hand to pull himself up on Derek's shoulder so that his other could just reach the ball and send it back where it slipped past Greenberg's fingertips and landed in the pool, spinning. Only his knees had kind of accidentally come up so that he was kind of half-wrapped around Derek. He let himself back down with his lips in a tight line because he wasn't sure how Derek "Not-So-Touchy-Feely" Hale felt about that kind of thing even after knowing him this long. It couldn't be that bad, though, because suddenly Derek was returning the favor in order to get the beach ball that was headed straight toward the still-hot grill. 

He was bigger than Stiles, though, by enough that Stiles' knees wouldn't really hold him entirely, so Derek couldn't quite reach enough. His fingertips still caught the ball, but instead of heading toward the grill, it popped over the fence. Stiles felt immediately guilty about his knees and vowed to actually work out a little. For reasons. But he also popped out of the pool and said, "I'll get it!"

It seemed to take forever to maneuver around all of the stuff in the way of the gate in the fence, but Stiles managed and ran through the grass, groaning as bits of it stuck to his feet from where it was obviously mowed recently. The ball was in the bushes just outside the fence and Stiles groaned again because they had just been trimmed and he was going to have to be careful about leaning in to get it. He had one hand against the fence as he carefully leaned forward to grab the ball when he noticed something strange. Yeah, this bush had been trimmed and so had several of the others, but the two at the end of the row were still a little shaggy. With the ball tucked under one arm, he walked toward those two bushes because somehow it just seemed like a good idea.

At least, it did until he caught a glint of metal. The pruning shears were on the ground, laying in the grass. Stiles had to look at them for a long moment for it to really sink in, but there was blood there. It was on the blades of the pruning shears and on the grass and probably soaked into the ground and as he crouched down with a hand over his mouth so he didn't let out a girly scream, he notices the source of the blood. Max, the Martin's gardener, was between the untrimmed bushes and the fence, and if Stiles weren't the one finding it, him, he'd make a Harry Potter joke. Because Max, against all odds, was kind of nearly headless. He questioned himself for a moment about how exactly to handle this because his dad had made it clear that leaving a crime scene before police got there was kind of a no-no and he wanted to follow that because this was a case he didn't actually have anything to do with, but there was no one else there to actually send to call the cops unless he yelled something out and panicked people running around a pool wasn't exactly good, either. So, he did what he always did. He called for his best friend. "Hey, Scott? Come out here."

Only, instead of Scott, he seemed to get a whole gang of people. Scott was there, but so were Allison and Isaac and Lydia and Danny... and Derek. "What's up?" Derek's nostrils twitched and Stiles could tell he smelled the blood now and knew that the chlorine and the burgers and the scents of two dozen people had covered it up, but he didn't look happy about it. 

"I don't think your gardener was _trying_ to scare you, at least?" Stiles said to Lydia and she pushed past everyone else to look where Stiles was deliberately not looking. She was up only a second later and running past them all. Stiles was worried for a second that she was going to freak out extra hard somehow, but she was back a moment later with her cell phone and calling in the body.

There was a lot of stunned silence that seemed to be happening. Stiles threw the ball back over the fence for now because more people crowding around was probably a bad idea. Scott joined Stiles in a crouch and shook his head. "How did no one notice this?"

Stiles kept his voice low as he talked to Scott even though there were a few people who would hear what he said anyway. "That's the thing. I think Lydia did. She said she saw someone headless and then said she it was probably her gardener playing a joke on her."

"Not a very good joke." Scott stood and looked around, sniffing the air slightly. "I don't smell anyone."

Stiles scoffed as he stood up. "Just the mulch around the bushes?"

With a shake of his head, Scott looked toward the bushes again. "No. Not even him. I don't know." He looked back at Derek. "How about you?"

Derek moved closer and his head canted around a bit as he sniffed at the air before looking back at Lydia. "Do you guys use activated charcoal filters for your pool water?"

"For the influx." Lydia's arms were crossed tightly across her chest and her eyes seem to be glued to the bloody pruning shears. Suddenly, she looked back up at Derek, her eyes wide. "Do you think someone used that to help hide their scent?"

There was a short moment before Derek leaned down and looked at the ground where the mulch around the base of the bushes looked normal to Stiles, but Derek huffed out a breath. "Yeah. I do."

There wasn't a lot of talking that happened before they could hear the sirens. Stiles ran one hand through his hair because, seriously, the cops should never have to come to a pool party except to tell them to knock off the noise a little. Of course his dad was the first one there and Stiles stood finally because he wasn't going to make his dad bend down too much when he'd been complaining about how the heat had been making him sleep in weird positions only a few days ago. "Hey, Dad. Didn't know you got an invite to this party. I think there's still a few chips left?"

"Knock it off, Stiles. We got a call about a dead body." Sheriff Stilinkski had, by now, noticed the pruning shears and the blood and gestured to one of the other officers to process it as part of the apparent crime scene.

Stiles nodded because, yeah, there wasn't really a good way to bring levity to the situation. "Yeah. We were hitting a beach ball around in the pool and it got knocked over the fence by accident and I came out to get it. I didn't even see the pruning shears at first. Or the blood. I just saw that these two bushes hadn't been trimmed yet, but the others had. That led me to the body. It's there behind the bushes."

There was a long moment before the sheriff leaned down and saw the body, grimacing as he stood again. "Okay, Ms. Martin? I'm going to have to ask you to shut down your party. One of my officers is gonna come in there and take down everyone's names. I'll need your statement and yours too, Stiles. We'll ask around and see who else might know something. Would you mind if we use your living room for that?"

Lydia sighed. "Use the kitchen. There's fresh lemonade in there that I was going to bring out later, but I guess this'll have to do. There's also a few leftover burgers and hot dogs. He wasn't poisoned or anything." She lifts her chin haughtily. "And you should check the ground for activated charcoal. We believe it might have been stolen from the pool filter shed in order to help cover up the scent. I mean, dead body on a hot day like this? Gross."

Somehow the news was delivered to everyone and they went through processing. There was a mad rush as everyone went to change at once and this time there weren't enough rooms for everyone. Stiles didn't want to wait, though, so he followed Derek into the bathroom with a hint of a smirk. "Thought you might need help peeling those off." He didn't mean it, or at least he didn't think so, but Derek didn't seem to mind as he locked the door behind them. 

"I'm guessing you're not serious about that because your father isn't that far outside the door and you look like a screamer." Derek's hands were moving to the waistband of his shorts, though, and for a moment Stiles was torn between being insulted because he's totally not a screamer, wondering if Derek really did need help, and wanting to scream because they hadn't even done anything more than flirting and suddenly he was in possession of the treasure that was this image.

He cleared his throat as he started to pull off his own shorts. "If you don't want me screaming, I suggest you invest in a ball gag." Stiles could pretty much feel that his heart was beating too fast, but he was watching a naked Derek Hale turn from fascinating front to enticing back and he kind of couldn't help it anymore. As he stepped out of his shorts, he was quick to move across the bathroom and grab Derek's shoulder, turning him enough that Stiles could press his mouth against Derek's. If they could tease each other with dick jokes, they could kiss. 

Derek's response was pretty automatic and Stiles was glad because the thought of rejection when he's not wearing pants was a little much. Derek's lips were a little dry and his stubble that was more like a very short beard was scratchy, but Stiles was kind of loving it. Their kisses were growing more open-mouthed as they went along and Stiles wasn't sure who makes the first move with tongue, but he was grateful to that person even if it was himself. There were broad hands all over his back and Stiles let his own fingers dig into Derek's ass which pulled Derek's mouth away from his own. He let out a whimper and then Derek's mouth was on his neck and Stiles imagined that this was what being devoured felt like, but in the best possible way. He was half-hard and his mouth had gone dry, but he knew himself. Yeah. He was a screamer. It took every bit of his willpower to pull away from Derek because, wow, this wasn't even his bathroom. "Okay. Yeah. Shorts. Shirt. Thoughts of Jack Nicholson naked."

There was a smirk on Derek's face and Stiles had a crazy moment of having to stop himself from trying to do something like kissing that smirk away. "If the circumstances were different, I'd want very different things to be happening here. But even though I can heal from getting shot? It still hurts like a bitch."

Stiles nodded and pulled on his clothes, waiting until Derek was also dressed before opening the door and heading out to go through the rigmarole of police questioning.

Derek got to sit in the corner of the kitchen on a barstool, drinking lemonade, while Stiles recounted all of the details. He couldn't see much of what was happening outside except for the top of some insanely tall guy's head, but he could see Derek's eyebrows, hard at work as he listened in on all of the things that Stiles couldn't hear.

The sun was still high in the sky when they got to leave, though they were cautioned to go straight home. It was a somber drive for a while until Stiles let his fingers brush against Derek's thigh before moving them back to the shifter knob. "Want to come over to my place for dinner?"

There was a pause, and then a nod. "Sure. We can talk about what happened today." Stiles swallowed roughly because he didn't want to eat a nice meal only to be told that they can't do the making out thing anymore because of reasons he doesn't even want to fathom. But that idea went straight out the window at Derek's next words. "Apparently, the gardener was missing his spinal cord." And that was good only because it didn't mean no on the making out front.

"So, then... ham? I've got a ham steak hiding in the back of the freezer so my dad doesn't eat it. And I make some mean mashed potatoes." 

They came to an agreement on the menu and Stiles drove right past the church where Derek was parked. That way, no matter what, he'd have a chance for a moment alone with Derek before he left. A case with a guy with a missing spinal cord was probably going to take up the rest of his dad's day, but just in case... He gave Derek a smile and headed home.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles grabbed the mail on his way into the driveway, leaning out the window of his Jeep to open the mailbox. As he flipped through it, he frowned. "Seriously? Seven letters and none of them are important in the slightest. What's become of the world?" He pulled into his usual spot and grabbed his bag from earlier, hauling it inside with him. "Okay. Give me a minute on that ham."

It took him several minutes of digging through the freezer before he pulled out the ham steak, dropping it in the sink where he started a stream of water over it. He pulled out a pot and a bag of yellow potatoes a moment later, then smiled up at Derek. Picking up the pot, Derek began to fill it partially with the water already streaming onto the ham. "I take it I'm peeling?"

"And _a_ ppealing." Stiles handed him a peeler and a knife and scooted over the trash can. "Do like five of those since they're small and cut them up so they're like inch and a half cubes? We've got some time on this. We don't need to rush it." It was a loaded statement, really, because he didn't really mean dinner.

As Derek began to peel, he started humming softly, the smooth _snick_ of the peeler a complement to the sound. Stiles recognized the song a moment later and leaned against the counter behind Derek, just smiling. When Derek moved to cutting up the potatoes, Stiles opened the refrigerator and pulled out a tub of butter. Sure, it was the stuff with added vitamins, but you couldn't exactly taste those in anything. He heard Derek clear his throat a moment later. "So, spine guy. The gardener. Did you know him?"

Stiles shook his head as he looked through the fridge and pulled out a package of shredded cheddar and then the milk. "I'd seen him a time or two before, I guess? Once at Lydia's house, I think, and a few times at the grocery store. I think he might have been a senior when I was a freshman. You're cool with cheese sauce on broccoli, right?"

"Yeah." Derek worked on finishing prepping the potatoes, frowning at the water after he'd added the last chunks of raw potato. He laid his hand across the contents and drained the water out before adding fresh water to cover them. "I'm just trying to figure out what a guy like that gets into that gets him killed in a way that is just... weird."

"You mean you don't collect spinal cords and use them as jump ropes? Good to know." Stiles grabbed flour from a cupboard and set it next to the things he'd grabbed from the fridge. "Seriously, though, I think that's our clue that maybe we don't need to focus so much on the who died, but the why. Maybe there's some weird creature that loves gold and is now over near the rich people and killing off what it sees as guards or something. Leprechauns. Are they a thing?"

Derek rolled his eyes and moved the pot of potatoes over to the stove, watching as Stiles added salt to the water and then covered them before turning on that burner. "I've never heard of leprechauns being real. And, really, I'd like to think that's one that Peter would have mentioned if he'd known. I loved Lucky Charms as a kid."

A grin crossed Stiles' face as he moved to open another cupboard and pulled out an individual-sized box of Lucky Charms. "I also enjoy things that are magically delicious." He set the box down on the counter, moving over to let his hands rest against Derek's chest. "When did you stop trying to make me afraid of you?"

"Who says I stopped at all?" Derek let his hands reach up to clasp Stiles' wrists. "The thing you have to understand, Stiles, is that I've had a couple of relationships go pretty badly. I had an older woman kind of seduce me and then kill most of my family. And then I had a little steamy thing with a woman who helped me when I needed it that ended pretty badly for everyone involved and killed a lot of my pack. Me... and relationships... they're not really a great idea when things aren't peaceful." His grip tightened on Stiles' wrists.

Stiles nodded at Derek's words, licking his lips as he started to speak. "Well, there's a couple different things here that make a big difference. Because, for one, you're the older one now and I doubt you'd use that to take advantage of me after having that done to you. And I really doubt you intend to kill my dad or Scott or anyone else who might as well be my family. And, two? The second crazy lady was, uh, crazy. They were also both ladies. Men can't understand women on the best of days so how were you supposed to understand?"

Derek kept his hands on Stiles' wrists, dragging them downward until they were at Stiles' side. "I'm not turning you down or anything. You've said it yourself that I have a hard time not just throwing myself straight into things. Well, this kind of happened. Now that it has? I can't make myself say no until you tell me it's over. You've got me wrapped around your little finger. That's just how I am."

Lifting one hand again, Derek's hand still wrapped around his wrist, Stiles lifted his pinky. "This finger? You're wrapped around this?" He laughed. "No. You're way too big for that. You'd break it." He lifted his index finger instead. "There. That's a little better." He touched the fingertip to Derek's nose. "You're a total sap who hides away so he doesn't get in too deep. It's cute."

Groaning, Derek let his head fall backward for a moment. "Yes. That's it. It's not that I have actual anxiety about forming relationships. I'm just trying to be a badass _and_ adorable."

Stiles nodded softly. "See, now you're pushing it. I say cute and you try to raise the stakes to adorable?" He twisted his hands around so that he was now the one holding Derek's wrists, then let his fingers join with the other man's. "Look. I don't do too great at the relationship thing, either. Hell, I had a crush on Lydia from starting when I was in 3rd grade. I'm not even sure she knew my name until last year. I don't even know when that crush stopped. But you make me... not quite as afraid to give it a try."

"I don't even know your name," Derek said, his eyebrows raised. "Unless you just mean the 'Stiles' thing."

"Yeah, well... That thing is complicated. When Stilinski is the easy name to spell? Derek Hale. Much easier. I like that name." Stiles quirked his head back toward the stove. "I'm going to get to work on that cheese sauce."

Derek let Stiles' fingers slide away with a soft sigh. "You could change your name. At least you can when you're 18."

Measuring out butter into a sauce pot, Stiles shook his head. "Nah. Mom gave me that name. I might not be able to really go by it, but that just makes it even more mine." With the butter melting in the pot, Stiles added the flour and grabbed a small whisk from a drawer. "I hate talking about things that make me sad. Tell me what kind of video games you like."

Derek moved over toward the fridge, leaning against it as he watched Stiles make the roux. "I honestly don't know. I don't have a TV at the moment so I don't really play anything except in arcades."

Stiles turned toward him with a groan, still whisking away as he started to add milk. "Just tell me the truth. Pacman or Galaga?"

Licking his lips as he leaned in toward Stiles, Derek said softly, "Street Fighter II." He punched Stiles' shoulder softly. "I'm not _that_ old."

With a laugh, Stiles looked him up and down. "Who'd you play? Ken or Ryu?"

Derek made a show of buffing his fingernails against his chest, then holding them out. "Chun Li." He narrowed his eyes at Stiles. "For you... Zangief?"

"I have moment of clarity... if Zangief is good guy, who will crush man's skull like sparrow's eggs between thighs?" Stiles nodded solemnly. "Not really. Totally a Ryu guy." At Derek's raised eyebrow, Stiles shook his head. "Seriously? You haven't seen Wreck-It Ralph?"

"No TV." Derek let his arms cross over his chest as he said it, eyeing up the contents of the pot as Stiles sprinkled in the shredded cheese.

Stiles raised his own eyebrows, obviously mocking Derek. "Then we'll watch it as we eat. I think you'll like it. It's all about video games and how bad guys can be heroes. And candy."

"Bad guys... can be candy?"

"There _is_ candy. You have to listen for the punctuation in my voice." Stiles pulled the pot off of the burner and moved it to a cool one, then checked the potatoes. "Hey, grab that bag of broccoli from the freezer."

Derek did as asked, handing it to Stiles who promptly ripped it open and upended it into a pot. "You know you have to put a pause in when you speak for punctuation to actually come through, right?"

Stiles turned back to the sink, adding a little water to the bottom of the pot before turning the water off and checking the ham. "I totally paused." He added salt to the broccoli and turned on the burner. 

Derek glanced at the salt shaker and frowned at the label. "Lite salt? How in the world can salt be lite?"

While grabbing a frying pan, Stiles shrugged. "It's not sodium. I think it's potassium? Anyway, better for my dad's heart. I figure it's not going to hurt me to have it, too."

"Sure." Derek picked up the package of ham from the sink, handing it to Stiles as he adjusted the frying pan on the stove. "Want me to cook this while you deal with the potatoes? They smell like they're ready."

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. Sure." He pulled open another drawer and pulled out a fork, using it to test the tenderness of the potatoes. "Okay, let me just get these out of the way." He pulled pot holders from another drawer and brought the pot over to the sink, holding the lid open just a bit to allow the water to drain out. 

Derek went to work opening the ham steak package, dropping the whole thing into the frying pan along with the liquid from the package. "Do you do a lot of cooking?"

"I guess?" Stiles shrugged and retrieved the butter and milk along with a potato masher. "It's nothing fancy, but I can make a lot of simple stuff. I'm not about to pull out a souffle or something, but you want some chicken breast, rice, and veggies? I'm your man."

Since the ham didn't require much attention, Derek watched Stiles as he mashed the potatoes, adding salt and pepper once they were the right consistency before scooping some up on his finger to try it, nodding at the taste. "So, no coq au vin?"

"Uh, no? I might manage crock pot pot roast on a good day. Simple, Derek. The heights of my culinary prowess are pretty easily reached." Stiles grinned and went about putting the potatoes in a bowl.

Derek rifled through the drawer of utensils before pulling out a pair of tongs and flipping the ham steak. "It still smells good. And you look like you know what you're doing."

Checking the broccoli, Stiles shrugged again. "When my mom died, I got tired of Stouffer's lasagna real quick. Dad would bring home takeout some nights and it just... It wasn't the same. My mom would make easy stuff like this and I figured... I could do that. It's not brain surgery. It's food. And if I maybe burned some macaroni and cheese sometimes and perpetually undercooked carrots for years? I eventually got to the point where Dad's doctor isn't threatening to put him on meds anymore. I call it a win. Victory and defeat are pretty close cousins sometimes."

"I think the ham's done." Derek turned off the burner and moved the pan off of the heat. "You know you're amazing, right?"

Stiles paused in moving the broccoli over to the sink to drain it, too. "No. I don't. I know I've got strengths and weaknesses and that the strengths get hidden under the weaknesses a lot so nobody sees me. They see this guy who's all limbs and mouth. It's what you saw when we first met, right?"

Derek took the pot from Stiles' hands and set it in the sink before grabbing Stiles by the shoulders. "Yes. Because one of your strengths is hiding in plain sight. The limbs and the mouth... of course I noticed them. And when I actually got to know how much more you were than that I kicked myself for not realizing in the first place that there had to be more than that. I'm more than brooding looks and muscles, but isn't that all you saw when you first met me?"

Shaking his head, Stiles reached up to cup Derek's face in his hands. "No." He let his thumbs trace along Derek's eyebrows. "These were on the list, too." He let out a snort of laughter. "Okay, I get it. But, seriously, amazing?"

Bringing one of Stiles' hands up to his mouth, Derek pressed his lips to it. "Yes. Amazing. Wonderful. Stupendous. The bomb-diggity."

"Well, that tells me exactly how serious you are." Stiles had a smirk on his face, though, that showed how much the words actually meant. "Go ahead and cut that ham in half and I'll finish getting the broccoli ready and then we can eat and watch Wreck-It Ralph."

Derek nodded and grabbed the pair of kitchen shears from the knife block on the counter, lifting the ham steak with the tongs and cutting it across. He opened cabinets until he found plates, pulling out two and putting one half of the ham steak on each. "Is it crazy that sometimes I'm angry that Scott didn't want to join my pack just because you guys were kind of a package deal?"

Stiles poured the cheese sauce over the broccoli, carefully mixing it together. "As long as you're not taking that anger out on him, it's okay. Maybe a little crazy. But since it's because you're crazy about me? I think I can forgive it." He nudged his hip against Derek's. "There are drinks in the fridge. Just don't touch the beer. I don't want my dad to freak out."

They loaded up plates and grabbed drinks and Stiles led the way to the living room where he popped in the movie before sprawling on the couch next to where Derek had sat down. "This is a cartoon?"

"Yup. Just don't go thinking that you're not gonna cry. They'll be very manly tears, I'm sure, but you're gonna cry." Stiles picked up his knife, cutting off a piece of ham before popping it in his mouth. Derek just scoffed and sat back, letting out soft noises of pleasure as he ate.

When they'd finished eating, Stiles grabbed Derek's plate and put it on the coffee table with his own. "And now... cuddle time." He stretched his legs out over the side of the couch and lay back so that his head was on Derek's lap. "This okay?"

Derek rolled his eyes, but it didn't keep him from letting his arm rest against Stiles' chest while his other hand lifted to stroke through Stiles' hair. "Yeah. This is okay. For now."

The movie started to really draw Derek in, filled with bright colors and childhood icons and a story that was hitting closer to home than he'd like. If was only as he went to reach for a tissue from the box on the coffee table as the credits rolled that he realized that Stiles had fallen asleep on his lap. While wiping away the tears that had fallen, Derek let out a soft laugh. Somehow, Stiles looked even younger when he was asleep. If made Derek a little uncomfortable to think about. The flirting and all of that was fine, but the second they crossed the line to something a little more carnal... He'd broken the law for lesser reasons, though. 

It wasn't anything to think about now. Carefully, Derek moved Stiles' head off of him so that he could stand, then covered Stiles with a blanket that was over the back of an armchair. With Stiles covered, Derek picked up the dishes and brought them to the kitchen, finishing off the last bit of broccoli so there weren't any leftovers before going to work on the dishes. It was calming to do. He was just finishing putting away the utensils when he heard the creak of the floor behind him. His head turned and he smiled to see Stiles standing there stretching and rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Dishes." Derek let the last spoon fall into place and closed the drawer. "I'm sorry you fell asleep and didn't get to see my manly tears."

Stiles shook his head softly. "Told you that you'd cry. Did you like it?"

With his thumbs tucked into his back pockets, Derek made his way over to Stiles. "Yeah. I did. We should do this again sometime."

"What, introduce you to modern pop culture? Sure." Stiles curled his lips into a sleepy smile and let his arms wrap around Derek. 

"I know a lot about 'modern pop culture'. I just haven't had a TV since I moved back. There's been a lot of stuff happening. I just haven't felt compelled to get one. But, now... Maybe I will. You can help me pick one out." Derek stayed where he was as Stiles started to lean against him. "If you're that tired, you should go to bed."

"Mmm... no. Not tired anymore. Just lazy." Stiles smiled up at him and let his eyes close. "Today was fun... except for spinal tap dude."

"Well, the selection of potato chips was also a little disappointing. Salt and vinegar, but no barbecue?" Derek finally let his own arms wrap around Stiles, holding him close as Derek's chin rested against the top of his head. "I'll head past there on my way home and see if I can tell anything else."

Stiles pulled away to nod. "Yeah. I'll see if my dad knows anything. He won't tell me flat out, but he's always a little more likely to leak stuff if I'm involved at all. I think we both know the police aren't going to solve this one, but it doesn't mean they won't have some confusing lead that'll make sense to us and not to them." He paused. "When did you need to go?"

Derek cleared his throat. "I should probably get going. Don't... don't worry about driving me back to my car. It's not that far."

There was a long pause where Stiles just stood there clinging to him gently before he nodded. "Okay. But, uh, tomorrow... I'll call you and we'll talk. Okay?"

"Yeah." Derek traced his thumb over Stiles' lips. "Okay." There were suddenly lips on his, stealing the last bit of the word. "Tomorrow."

Grabbing his things, Derek headed out the door with a wave. He'd take the time walking to his car to focus on what he wanted to try to find at Lydia's house. It wasn't likely to do much good, but hope wasn't hard to find right now when things weren't at their most desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been reading this fic already, you may notice I've changed the tense I'm writing it. I went back and changed the previous 4 chapters already.
> 
> Also, Stiles' big Zangief line is from Wreck-It Ralph in case I didn't make that obvious.


	6. Chapter 6

He'd struck out completely on trying to find any new information at Lydia's house. The only thing new was yellow police line tape draped around several of the bushes. Derek wondered if Stiles was having any more luck in finding anything from his father. 

It seemed like a ridiculously long ride back to his place, but it was probably just because there wasn't enough traffic on the road to draw his attention away from his thoughts. He'd mentioned the two relationships to Stiles that he'd had which had gone badly because of the other person. He hadn't been able to bring himself to talk about the one where he had been the one to do everything wrong, and yet his relationship with Stiles reminded him far more of the one he'd had with Paige than of the ones he'd had with Kate or Jennifer. Stiles wasn't innocent by any means, but there was something more to him; something that Derek didn't have and admired in Stiles. The most hesitant part of him was the part that didn't want to taint that.

When he finally got to his apartment, Derek found himself staring at the empty walls. He didn't really have much from before the fire, but what he did have was mostly tucked away in a fire safe under his bed. He pulled it out to look through sometimes, but he couldn't bring himself to put it out on display just in case. Things hadn't been peaceful in the town for a while and there were some things he just couldn't bring himself to risk. He didn't particularly want Stiles to be at risk, either, but he was finally starting to learn that he couldn't actually make decisions for the other man. Besides, he was bad enough about doing things that ended up hurting people he really didn't want to see hurt. Maybe now was the time to let other people start to make some decisions for him.

Locking the door behind him, Derek let his mouth tighten into a thin line. A TV. And a video game system. It certainly wouldn't hurt to get them. He headed to bed after brushing his teeth and kicking off his jeans, though he lay awake for a while just staring out at the waxing moon. Stiles would call tomorrow and they would talk. If anyone else had told him the same thing, he'd worry that there was trouble brewing. Stiles, though... It only made him look forward to it. It wasn't until the clouds started to roll in, blocking his sight of the crescent moon, that Derek finally fell asleep.

It was the sound of his cell phone that woke him. He groaned as he groped for it, staring at the screen for a full round of his ringtone. It had been a long time since he'd gotten that much sleep. Still, it was Stiles so he slid his finger across the green icon to accept the call, pulling the phone up to his ear. "Hey."

"Hey. I said I'd call, so I'm calling. I... don't even have anything to say so I'm just gonna go on and on until you tell me when I can see you again." Stiles' heartbeat was loud enough that Derek could hear it over the phone.

Pushing back the covers, Derek sat up. "How about today? I need a television and since you seem to have opinions on that, I'm putting you in charge of helping me pick one out."

Derek could hear the smile in Stiles' voice as he spoke again. "Seriously? Okay. Wanna meet after lunch? I'd totally meet you _for_ lunch, but I just made myself a grilled cheese and it is nearly as tempting as you are."

"One. I'll swing by and pick you up." It would give him plenty of time to shower and grab something to eat for himself.

"Are you kidding? The only TV we could fit in your car wouldn't be worth buying. I'll come get you at one."

Nodding, Derek licked his lips. "Well, aren't you the gentleman? I'll see you then, Stiles. Bye."

"Always. Bye, Derek." There was a click of sound and Derek pulled the phone from his ear. At least that gave him a little more time to get lay in bed before getting ready. He knew he should really go ahead and get up. He wasn't usually the type to lounge around in bed, but Stiles was making him relearn that it was possible to both pay attention to yourself and what was going on around you. It was a lesson he'd needed the reminder for.

When he did finally roll out of bed, he had to make a mad dash to shower and dress just to be ready for when Stiles would show up. He probably could have managed to eat a bowl of cereal, but the milk in his fridge was questionable at best right now. He'd just head out later to get more. It wouldn't be a problem. He locked up and headed down to the front of the building, stepping outside just as Stiles pulled up. "Hey."

Stiles lifted his chin in acknowledgement and Derek climbed into the passenger seat. "So I was thinking," he said as a greeting, "how about a projector screen?"

"No." Derek shook his head. "A television is fine. Basic cable. Movies. Video games. I've gone without for years so I don't need to overdo it."

"You say that now, but then you're gonna see Game of Thrones and want HBO and then you'll discover that there's a channel for nothing but supernatural porn and want that even though it's not real, but the werewolf mythos they use is pretty accurate even if the sideburns aren't nearly as rockin' and then you'll be a junkie back on the wagon. A couch potato, just like the rest of us."

As if on cue, Derek's stomach growled. "The only potatoes I like are the edible ones. And don't say that's an insult to you. The only time you're still is when you're asleep."

Stiles snorted. "You know, usually I'm not? It's weird that I was still when I was sleeping on you." He reached out to pat Derek's stomach. "And why is your stomach growling? I thought we were doing the lunch thing before this."

Derek leaned his arm against the window and sighed. "I maybe fell back asleep for a bit and had to choose between food and a shower."

"Then we are heading to get you a burger because the growls from your stomach are alpha-worthy." Derek was silent as Stiles drove, wanting to shoot back some kind of retort, but finding himself unable to say anything against Stiles' words. "Hey, you like curly fries, right?" Stiles asked as they approached the drive-thru.

"Yes. And, yes, you are allowed to steal some. I know that's one of your vices." Derek squinted at the menu. "With a number... three? Yeah, three. With cheese since you're going to eat half of my fries. And Coke."

Stiles grinned at Derek and then opened the window to shout the order at the speaker. Derek rolled his eyes as he pulled out a $10 bill, shoving it toward Stiles. They proceeded around to the window and Derek watched as Stiles got his change and promptly shoved it into the box labeled for donations to the local children's hospital. He didn't mention it, but happily took his food as Stiles handed it to him a few moments later. The burger was salty and greasy and messy... and it was perfect. Derek only paused briefly to chew, happy to shovel in a curly fry or two when he remembered them there which, by rights, should have been more often as they were still in the bag sitting on his lap and Stiles had already started working on his half. If he'd been focusing on them, though, he wouldn't have gotten to feel Stiles' fingers ghosting across the bottom of the bag trying to find dropped fries since Stiles probably wouldn't have been stealing nearly as many.

By the time they got to the electronics store, the food was gone and Derek was working on sucking up the last of the soda as they parked. "Seriously, though, what are you wanting in a TV?"

Derek shrugged. "Something that will show me an image big enough to see from my couch. I really don't care."

Stiles held up his hands in frustration. "Seriously? Well, okay, so most modern TVs aren't going to have gigantic differences between them, but are you wanting any of the TV services built in? Touch screen? Ambient lighting? 3D?"

"None of that. I want a television that I can hook a Playstation or an Xbox up to and play games and watch movies and maybe at some point in the future actually get cable for. But right now? I have WiFi so if I really want to I can just download things to watch." Derek led the way into the building and immediately felt a little lost. It had been so long since he'd looked at TVs that he had no idea what a good price was or even what brands were considered good. A moment later, he was hit with something and he turned to glare at Stiles. "What was that for?"

Holding up his phone, Stiles frowned. "You have WiFi. You didn't give me the password. I went over on my data last month because of everything I had to look up from the bestiary when I was over at your place!"

"Oh." Derek glanced back toward the televisions. "I'll make it up to you. Let's just get this over with."

Soon enough, Stiles had zeroed in on something decent. The price seemed decent, it was a good size, the brand name seemed familiar, and the picture display looked better than the others that were all showing the same recorded football game. "I'm going to recommend the extended warranty, too. Y'know how some of your friends might like to play a little rough?"

Derek rolled his eyes, but relented. After signing the credit card receipt, he and Stiles carried the TV out to Stiles' Jeep and went through the arduous process of trying to get it in. "It doesn't fit, Stiles."

"Well, right now it doesn't!" Stiles crouched down a little, eyeing up the TV and his Jeep. "Okay, if we open the back window? It should fit. But then we'd need to go back to your place and I was going to take you to the game store first to get something."

"How about I just give you my debit card and PIN and let you go crazy? Hell, buy something for yourself to make up for your mobile data." Derek lifted the TV and carefully edged it through the back window, then patted it. "I guess I can stay outside. Surprise me. I like nice surprises."

"Okay. Maybe I will." They were at the game store only a few minutes later and Stiles held out his hand. Derek slapped his card into it and told him the PIN before sitting back, wondering if maybe he should have just trusted that he would have noticed anyone trying to steal a 46" television from the Jeep. 

It hardly mattered. Stiles was back outside before Derek had checked the time for the second time and then they were off. "What did you even get?" It didn't seem that important, especially since his reason for getting it was a little more for Stiles than for himself, but he was curious.

"Playstation 3, an extra controller, and some other stuff like an HDMI cable." Stiles was careful in his driving since the TV was in the back of his Jeep, and Derek felt like he could watch the other man's fingers forever as he drove. Well, and his face. He'd never seen anyone else drive with such an intense expression on their face, but he liked it. Liked that he could be there to see it.

The rest of the drive was silent, but not long, leaving Derek ready to bring the television upstairs to get back to where there would be things to talk about. It wasn't until they'd parked that Derek even remembered spine guy. "Hey," he asked as he lifted the TV above his head, "did your father say anything about the case?"

Stiles locked up his Jeep and carried the bag from the game store. "No. I mean, I could tell he thought something was weird, but he didn't even say anything to me about the spinal cord."

"I wish we knew enough about any of it to have any kind of lead. Lydia... I know you care for her, Stiles, but I wonder how much she's even able to believe in these things. And if she doesn't believe enough, how much isn't she seeing just because she doesn't want to?" 

Stiles opened the elevator door for Derek and pressed all of the necessary buttons before leaning a shoulder against the wall. "I don't know. We all have things we don't want to see. You're a werewolf, but I've seen you be pretty fucking oblivious. I'm sure I've had my moments. And, yeah, maybe I'm cutting Lydia a little extra slack here or whatever, but you cut Peter an awful lot of slack, too."

"Point taken." Derek headed toward his door when the elevator opened. He looked toward his pocket and then at Stiles. "Could you grab the key?"

"Yeah, okay." Stiles' fingers lingered in his pocket and Derek was glad that the television wasn't any heavier. By the time his brain seemed to get with the program again the door was open, so he headed through. He set the box on the floor and began to unpack it, gesturing to the low cabinet across from the couch. "Let's set everything up there. I don't even know if we've got everything we need, so let's find out."

"Don't look at the bag with the video game stuff yet," Stiles said before pausing. "Oh, and take your card back." He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over, watching as Derek put it away. "Now, the first thing we probably want to do is to find the stand part?"

Derek pulled out the bag with the remote, batteries, hardware, and manual. "Additionally, we could look at the instructions."

"It's a TV, not an IKEA... anything. It should be pretty obvious, And if it's not? Then we'll look at your precious instructions." With everything unpacked from the box, Derek mostly just watched as Stiles puzzled out where all of the pieces went, eventually getting them all in place and screwed in. "There. Perfect."

Holding up his hands in surrender, Derek picked the TV up from where Stiles had had to lay it on the couch to attach the stand, then moved it to the top of the cabinet he'd pointed to before. "Okay. I guess I can leave the Playstation to you, too?"

Stiles already had the cords in his hand, unraveling them. "Yeah. Hey, can you get me something to drink? I don't even care what."

With a shrug, Derek headed to his kitchen, filling two cups with water and ice before bringing them back. "Sorry. I haven't been to the store in a few days," he said before his mouth just didn't seem to want to work anymore as he watched Stiles on his hands and knees, his hips undulating as he fit cords where they were supposed to go. He was glad of the water, suddenly, downing a healthy swallow of his own glass before holding one out for Stiles as he stood up. "You have a dust bunny on your shirt."

"A dust bunny?" Stiles grinned as he looked down, plucking it off as he grabbed for his water. "Who knew you could be so cute?" He gestured to the TV. "Okay. Everything should be all set now. Oh! Go ahead and tell me your WiFi password so I can get you hooked up for that. I decided to download a game instead of buying one at the store."

Derek scowled. "AlphaBetaOmega. No spaces. The A, B, and O are capitals. I know it's lame, but I just needed something my neighbors weren't going to figure out."

"Okay." Stiles just nodded, his fingers flying as he turned on the TV and flipped to HDMI1, then began to go through connecting Derek's new Playstation 3 to the internet. "I didn't actually buy you a game yet," he said after a while.

"Um, okay?" Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles as he watched the system update.

"Yeah, well, the one I wanted to get you? It's only on the online store." He hit his thumb against a button to advance past the update screen, quickly scrolling through to the PSN store. "I couldn't think of anything better, so..." He trailed off as he started a search for the game, each letter lending credence to the wild thought that had crossed Derek's mind. 

"Street Fighter II?" Derek couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. "Seriously."

"Hell yeah! Well, the Turbo HD remix. Same game, but better graphics and a little extra stuff. It's why I got you an extra controller, too." Stiles finished entering the information to start the download, then hit the button and raised his eyebrows as he set the controller down, both of them plugged in to charge. "Stiles did good?"

"Stiles did well." Derek patted the couch next to him. "Thank you, by the way, for dragging me into the 21st century. I got the memo on the skinny jeans, but I think that was it."

Bouncing on his knees on the couch, Stiles grinned. "Have I told you yet that I'm glad you got that memo? Very glad. Anyway, hey, as long as we're here and you're thankful, I was thinking maybe we should make out." Derek hesitated in his response and Stiles immediately sat back. "Ouch. Okay, so maybe not. Well, then let's see if you can pick up any channels at all with this thing." He picked up the remote.

"Stiles..." Derek took the remote from the other man's hand and set it on his coffee table. "I want to make out with you. I do. But I also want to feel like... like we're on the same page. I don't feel like that right now and I don't want to feel like I need to question what's happening between us. I'd rather just wait a little to get over my demons a little more. I'm almost there, I think. Almost." He moved his hand to rest against Stiles' thigh.

"You fucker," Stiles said without venom. "You're not supposed to make it about you for real." He let his hand settle on top of Derek's only to get distracted by his phone. He let the hand on Derek's stay there as his other fumbled with his phone. "Well... that's not good. Lydia maybe just found another body."

Derek steeled himself for an answer to his next question. "Missing the spinal cord again?"

Stiles looked up from his phone. "I'm not sure. She said she saw something and she's coming over to talk about it. I guess she wanted to split before the police got there? You find too many dead bodies and the cops, bless them, start wondering if you had something to do with them." He cleared his throat. "And I kind of already texted Scott to come over. Do you think maybe you want to run to the store? Or, y'know, I can."

"I'll go," Derek said as he stood up. "Text me if you can think of anything in particular we need or else I'm just buying a bunch of junk food and hoping for the best."

"Okay." Stiles stood in front of Derek and leaned toward him, brushing their lips together for an all-too-brief moment. "Just be careful. And bring back lemonade. I don't know why, but lemonade."

The kiss made Derek smile as he walked to grab his keys where they'd been hung on a hook on the wall. "I'll be back, Stiles. With lemonade."

"And that, Derek Hale, is just one more reason why you're awesome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are super-appreciated, guys. I don't normally write a lot of longfic and this is a very new fandom for me, so I have no idea how I'm doing. Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

Things were in full swing by the time Derek got back to the apartment with his groceries, except that Lydia still hadn't arrived. "Has anyone tried calling her?" he asked as he hefted the bags up onto the counter and started to put away the things that weren't likely to be immediately consumed.

Stiles jogged into the kitchen to join him, nodding as he grabbed the Doritos and pulled the bag open. "Yeah. Isaac's on his way with her. Something spooked her bad enough that she wanted to go give her mom a hug. I know that feeling." He picked up one chip and shoved it whole into his mouth, chomping down.

Derek nodded and pushed over a bag toward Stiles. "I got raspberry lemonade. I hope that's okay."

The Doritos were set on the counter and promptly forgotten as Stiles lifted the jug of it from the bag. "Oh my god, I think I love you."

Trying to be casual, Derek leaned on the edge of the counter and smiled at Stiles. "The lemonade or me?"

"A man can't think he loves multiple things?" Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek's neck as he passed by to grab a glass, filling it with the lemonade and promptly drinking half of it. "I know I like you both lots, at least," he said as he grabbed the Doritos again. "Is that enough for right now?"

Derek grabbed a Dorito from the bag. "It's more than I ever expected, so of course it's enough." He looked over toward the door. "Lydia's here."

The door opened a moment later and Lydia rushed in, eyes wide until Isaac closed the door behind her. She turned to survey her friends and gave a little nod toward the new television. "So. You guys have heard of the headless horseman, right? Because I'll pretty sure I saw one at my house the other day and then I saw it again today. I think it's following me."

Allison stood up and pulled Lydia to her in a hug, her eyes casting about until Stiles walked into the room. "That's crazy. What in the world would a headless horseman be doing in Beacon Hills? Although, I gotta ask, was he short? Because my mind always likes to make every guy on a horse, like, jockey short."

Lydia groaned. "Stiles, while I appreciate the levity you're attempting to bring to the situation? Please just continue to shove artificially cheese-flavored corn chips into your face."

"Okay." Stiles shoved two Doritos into his mouth that time.

Scott shook his head as he looked over toward Lydia, his eyes skirting over to Allison. "I don't know, guys. I mean, I don't doubt you, Lydia, but why would a headless horseman be after you?"

Stiles licked his fingers clean, then rubbed them against his pants, before pulling out his laptop. "Why don't we try to find out?"

Derek tried to ignore the image of Stiles sucking on his fingertips and, instead, gestured toward the kitchen. "There's chips and drinks in the kitchen. We'll get pizza in a little while if this takes too long."

Isaac was sitting on the back of the couch, watching Stiles, and said a moment later, "What the hell, Derek? When did you get WiFi?"

"When Peter demanded either that or to use my car whenever he wanted. Now, shut up and help him look." Derek perched on the arm of the couch, one leg pulled up toward his chest. "Wait, what's that?"

"Huh?" Stiles looked at the search results that had come up. "Whoa, wait a second. Okay, I think this is it." He clicked on the page. As it loaded, everyone else moved to crowd around the screen. "The Dullahan. A creature of Irish myth whose name translates to 'dark man'. He is a foreteller of death, but is also capable of causing it, particularly when searching for a Banshee to ride at his side. As he courts her, he will build a carriage for them of bone and sinew and the whip for his horses will be the spinal cord of a man in perfect health." He turned toward Lydia. "Okay, so maybe he is after you. I don't suppose you've got a Banshee friend or two you might want to try to set him up with instead?"

Lydia moved to sit in an armchair, bringing her hands up to her face as she started inhaling and exhaling in a slow rhythm. "Okay, okay. So, the real question is, how do I turn him down? Because he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who bothers to listen when someone says 'no'."

"I don't know." Stiles splayed one hand toward the computer screen, his fingertips still orange. "That's all that page says. I'll look around more and check the bestiary and see what I find. But, right now? Relax. There's no safer place to be right now, or at least no better people to be with. We'll figure this out, Lydia."

She let her own hands spread apart, wordless for a long moment, then she stood and grabbed the bag of Doritos. "Give me those. If anyone needs junk food right now, it's me."

Allison patted her hands against her legs for a moment, just noticing that she was sitting between Isaac and Scott. "So, um, Derek... I see you have a TV now. Do we want to turn on the news or something? Maybe make sure that we only have the two victims? Not that it's going to affect anything, but, maybe we could get an idea of where this thing is."

Derek crossed his arms over his chest. "Do whatever you want. I just got it today and I haven't set it up yet."

Stiles glanced up. "I did. Channel seven comes through pretty clear."

"Dude, Stiles I've been meaning to ask..." Scott's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Derek. "Are you guys dating or something? Because, you smell like each other now and your heart always beats faster when you're around him."

Lydia's eyes widened. "Seriously? I mean, he's kind of a step down from me, but I can see where he might be boner-inducing."

Digging the heels of his hands against his eyes, Stiles groaned. "Seriously? This is when you choose to ask about my love life?"

Derek put his hand on the back of Stiles' neck, fingers rubbing against the skin. "We're having fun. It may later be something we'll call dating, but right now we're a little more concerned with how to stop this creature from killing more people just to get Lydia's attention."

"That's so sweet." Lydia smiled at them, then glared at Derek. "Aren't you a little old, though?"

"Older is not old, Lydia," Allison said, smiling just enough that her dimple showed. "Besides, it's kind of sweet. They always seem to end up in crazy situations together. Maybe it's destiny."

Isaac looked at her with one eyebrow raised. "Destiny? Destiny would have Derek getting together with the guy who's into Danny so they could just do the crazy gay werewolf thing. Hey, the way he and his brother do the combining thing..."

Scott rolled his eyes. "No, I don't think the Alpha twins had sex with each other and suddenly figured out how to combine. I think they said Deucalion taught them. Anyway, Stiles? Derek? I'm happy for you both, but please don't let your dad find out until you're eighteen."

Allison bit her lip. "Or my dad. He just started to put the guns into storage."

Stiles paused in his typing to look around at his friends. "Can we maybe not allude to people wanting to kill the guy I want to make out with later? Go play Street Fighter or something. I think I've got a lead here but you're distracting me."

Patting Stiles on the shoulder, Scott grinned. "So will Chun Li's thighs."

Smirking, Derek moved over to grab one of the controllers, taking a moment to figure out how to switch the TV over to HDMI1 again and to start the game. He unplugged the other controller from the cord and looked around the room. "Who else wants to play?"

Lydia lifted her hand, then buried it in her hair as everyone turned to look at her. "What? A girl can't feel like kicking a little ass? Just give me that." She held out her other hand. "Make Isaac call for the pizza." She smirked. "And you could call the twins, too. Maybe let them know you're up for a little threeway?"

Isaac stood up and pulled out his phone. "I'll call for the pizza." He began to scroll through his contacts. "If you want your boyfriend here, you can call him." He smirked at Lydia. "You must be prettier than I am. Neither of them even gave me their number."

"That goes without saying," Scott said with a grin. "I want Hawaiian. And get some garlic bread."

Stiles shook his head. "And maybe we'll get lucky and the Dullahan burns when exposed to garlic breath."

The pizza order was finally placed after a lot of general noise that Stiles did his best to ignore, scrolling through more and more pages of information and cross referencing them with the tiny bit in the bestiary about the creature. "We might be screwed," Stiles said as he turned to Lydia. "The only weakness a Dullahan has is gold. They're really sensitive to it, though, and won't go closer than like fifteen feet from it."

"So, the only reason it didn't get me today is that I was wearing this necklace?" Lydia touched her fingers to the necklace and her mouth dropped open as the necklace fell to her lap. "Oh, no. No, no, no!" She picked up the necklace and stared at the ends. "Damn it. The clasp came off."

Scott started to dig in his pocket. "My pocket knife has pliers."

"No." Lydia's nostrils flared as she looked at Scott. "It broke. As in, that part needs to be replaced or melted enough to rejoin the pieces. I can take it to the jeweler tomorrow." She sat back in the seat, her jaw tense. "Please tell me that someone else in here has something gold I can borrow."

Suddenly, the door opened again and Derek was on his feet in a flash, claws extended. Stiles had leapt up to stand between Lydia and the door. "Here I do the good deed of bringing up the pizza for the young man terribly confused by the elevator and suddenly I'm a threat?"

"Peter." Derek let out a snarl. "There's a Dullahan trying to make Lydia his new travel companion. Everything is a threat. And you were a threat before the Dullahan." He paused. "Besides, where have you been?"

"Out. About. Discovering that redwood splinters can be obnoxiously long." Peter set the pizzas down on the table. "Who ordered the ham and pineapple? We're sharing."

Scott lifted a hand in response as Derek closed the door with more force than he'd intended to use. "When you moved in, I thought we had an agreement that you would knock."

Peter nodded solemnly, walking over slowly until he could settle his hand on Derek's shoulder. "And I was going to. But, my hands were full. Normally, I'd have the strength to keep them all steady with one hand, but ever since-"

"I get it. But, next time? Knock. Or kick. Or headbutt the door." Derek sat back down on the couch next to Stiles. "Okay, so we just need to get some gold in contact with this thing and it's dead?"

"Not... exactly." Stiles gestured to a passage of the bestiary. "The gold is the only in we've got to weaken the Dullahan enough that we can pry the head out of its arms. You have to do that before you can even try to kill it. And then we have to burn it. And the ashes have to be imbued with gold or it can rise again on the new moon."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Well, that's easy."

Adjusting the computer on his lap, Stiles sighed. "Yeah, well, it's what we've-"

"No. Seriously, that's easy. You just have to hit it with a Molotov cocktail using Goldschlager and then, as it's burning, one of you werewolf boys just needs to run in to tear away Mr. Head and voila!" She opened one of the pizza boxes and pulled out a slice.

Peter smiled, his hands resting on the back of Lydia's chair as he stared at the top of her head. "Sometimes I just want to get inside of your head and stay there."

She spun around and flung a slice of pepperoni at Peter's face. "Yeah, we kind of already did that. Let's not try it again." She looked at the necklace on her lap once more before sliding it into her bag. "And, seriously, does anyone have anything gold I can borrow for the night?"

"Fine." Peter had caught the pepperoni and popped it into his mouth, smiling as he chewed and moved over toward a closed door. There was relative silence as everyone started to dig into the pizza while still wondering what Peter was up to. Derek just shrugged when Stiles looked at him pointedly.

When Peter returned a few minutes later, he picked up Lydia's hand and dropped something into it. She looked at the object and glared up at him. "Seriously?"

"It's gold. You just need it overnight. I expect it back in pristine condition, Lydia. Pristine."

Lydia held it up where everyone could see it. "And why, exactly, do you have a tiny replica of the pirate medallion thing from Pirates of the Caribbean?"

"Because it amuses me. And since there's a Johnny Depp connection to your current problem? Well, that amuses me, too." Peter plucked the necklace from her hand and slid it over her neck. "You only need to wear it home. I'm certain you have other golden trinkets, perhaps given by one of your many admirers?"

"Yeah, well, thanks. I guess." Lydia groaned. "Okay, so, we know how to get rid of this thing. But now we need to find it." She looked over at Derek and Stiles. "The two of you are going to come with me to the jeweler's tomorrow and we're going to stock up on supplies."

Isaac waved one hand toward her as he worked to finish his bite of pizza. "How come you don't want me to help tomorrow?"

"Because you're not almost as good at strategy as I am and you're also not old enough to buy alcohol. Besides, poor Stiles here has been focusing so hard on trying to solve this problem while everyone else was being loud and entirely unhelpful so giving him a chance to have a little time with his boytoy tomorrow is his reward." Lydia smirked.

Peter managed to squeeze onto the couch even though Derek had been sure there wasn't enough room. "Ah, yes. Stiles and Derek. They're utterly revolting already." He pulled out a piece of the Hawaiian pizza and took a bite, somehow managing to look smug.

Stiles let his head fall back against the couch. "You guys still haven't started playing Street Fighter?"

Derek grabbed the controller that Lydia had set aside and handed it to Stiles. "Winner gets the other one a drink?"

"I didn't know you wanted me to drink all of your lemonade," Stiles said as he set his laptop down and chose Zangeif with a broad grin. 

"You can crush my head between your thighs all you want," Derek said in as soft a whisper as he could manage toward Stiles' ear.

Scott and Isaac both let out soft whimpers and seemed to simultaneously realize they needed things from the kitchen. Derek chose Chun Li and hit the button to start.

The fight seemed to take forever, each slide of the health bar matched pretty equally by the opponent only a moment later. Even though they were each managing combos, neither was dominating the other. In the end, Chun Li barely managed a victory over Zangief with a sweep of his leg, but Derek still crowed his victory while Stiles groaned. "Okay, man, what do you want to drink?"

"I got a bottle of black cherry soda. Bring me a glass of that." Derek gave Stiles a broad smile and sat back with his arms behind his head.

"What am I supposed to make of this bizarre creature who smiles and jokes and suddenly has a television?" Peter slapped his hand down on Derek's shoulder. "Well, it's a good look on your nonetheless."

A moment later, Stiles came back into the room and handed a glass to Derek. "There you go. One Blood of the Innocent." At Derek's furrowed brow, Stiles shrugged. "Look at it! That is exactly the color of blood."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "But blood would congeal on ice."

Allison cleared her throat. "Hey, guys? Since we're not really doing anything... I'm going to head out. Give me a call or whatever about tomorrow if you need me to do anything, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Lydia gave Allison a bright smile. "It probably wouldn't hurt to ask your dad if he's ever dealt with something like this before."

"Yeah. I can do that." Allison nodded a little too quickly. "And... I think Scott and Isaac are probably going to leave here in a second, too." She held up a hand to wave before turning and letting herself out. She was right in that Scott and Isaac were each quick to take their leave.

Peter looked at the door for a moment after they left, his head tilting. "The thing I don't get is which one of them Isaac is actually into."

"Obviously both," Lydia said as she dropped her crust back into one of the pizza boxes. "And since it's just me and three guys here, none of whom I'm actually into, I'm going to head out, too." She fingered the necklace at her throat. "The jeweler opens at 9am. Pick me up at my place at 8:30." She gave Peter a terse smile. "I'll return your necklace to Derek tomorrow. If you're very lucky, some of my good taste will have rubbed off on it so that you might reap the benefits of it."

"I think my amount of luck is sufficiently high, princess," Peter said with a laugh. "Now, run on home. You've got a big day tomorrow."

"Whatever." Lydia wiped off her fingers with a napkin and waggled her fingers at Derek and Stiles before leaving.

There was a pregnant pause that seemed to fill the room before Peter finally touched his hand to his chest. "Oh! I can see I'm not wanted here. Just remember that keeping it down does nothing when it comes to werewolf hearing. Be loud and let me live vicariously through you." He wandered off to his room, leaving only Derek and Stiles on the couch.

"And, on that note..." Stiles set down his controller. "I think I'm going to head home and see what my dad knows. Or, at least, see if he's willing to say anything at all."

Derek nodded and reached over to grab Stiles, hugging him tightly. "I'll drive tomorrow. I guess I'll pick you up at 8?"

"I'll have doughnuts. Or bagels. Something." Stiles pressed his lips against Derek's, a soft and gentle kiss that seemed to hold them in thrall for a long while. When Stiles finally pulled away again, he was grinning. "So, other than the dead people? Totally the best summer ever."

While he agreed, Derek still made sure to give Stiles a disapproving look. "Get out of here. I'll see you in the morning."

Stiles waved as he headed out the door, blowing a kiss Derek's way at the last second. Derek felt the muscles in his face twinge as his smile broadened, then turned back to the TV. It was time to reacquaint himself with something from his childhood that didn't cause him pain to think about anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles waved at Derek as he headed over to the Camaro, a box in hand that he shoved through the window at the other man before opening the door and getting seated. "Okay. There's a dozen doughnuts there. You can have half. And we should get coffee somewhere."

Derek cracked the box open. "What kinds do you have?" He could tell some of them from a glance, but the others weren't as familiar. He looked at Stiles and grinned sheepishly, ducking his head a little. "And also 'hi' and coffee sounds good. Shouldn't we get Lydia first, though?"

"No need. She always gets the same thing. Tall Cinnamon Latte with no whipped cream. We'll just grab one and bring it to her." Stiles shrugged. "Being on Lydia's good side is generally a good thing." He took the box of doughnuts from Derek and started pointing. "Since I wasn't sure what you wanted, I just got a bunch. There's a few plain glazed and a powdered sugar cake doughnut, a cruller, a bear claw which isn't really a doughnut but cost the same so whatever, a lemon filled, a custard filled, a raspberry filled, two chocolate-covered raspberry filled, one devil's food, and one chocolate covered with sprinkles." He paused. "Where do you want to start?"

"I'd say chocolate-covered raspberry, but there was a gleam in your eye." Derek let his fingers hover over the doughnuts, trying to make a different selection.

Stiles picked up one of them, pushing it into Derek's hand. "There was no gleam. I was not gleaming. They may be among my favorite kind of doughnut... but that's why I got two."

Derek lifted his eyebrows in amusement, but it didn't stop him from biting into the doughnut as he pulled out of the driveway, nodding happily as the flavor filled his mouth. By the time they'd gotten to the coffee shop, they'd polished off half of the box of doughnuts. Stiles set the box in the backseat and got out of the car, leaning against the door for a moment as he waited on Derek. As Derek crossed around in front of him, Stiles joined him and started to walk toward the door only to have Derek grip his arm and hold him back. "You're got a little chocolate on you."

Stiles looked down at his shirt while licking his lips. "Where?"

Inhaling sharply, Derek bridged the short distance between them and pressed his mouth to Stiles', licking the streak of chocolate across the other man's lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, feeding off of his taste and the sound of the noises that Stiles couldn't seem to hold back. "Sorry. Didn't have a napkin," he said with a lick of his own lips as he pulled away.

"Yeah, um..." Stiles nodded, his lip now red and wet. "You're gonna make me messier than any food ever could."

"What if I get you messy with food? You're tasty with chocolate. How about whipped cream?" Derek moved to the door and held it open for Stiles.

Groaning, Stiles stepped through the door. "Dude, you're gonna be the death of me. Seriously."

As the door closed behind them, Derek couldn't help but mutter out, "I hope not." He joined Stiles in line, looking over the menu on the wall the whole while even though a quick glance had confirmed his selection.

"One tall cinnamon latte, no whip, and a tall caramel macchiato, upside-down," Stiles said a moment later when it was their turn. He pointed to Derek. "And whatever he's having."

Derek moved closer toward the counter. "Just give me your largest Americano with two pumps of raspberry syrup." He pulled out his wallet, quickly paying for the order before Stiles could. They moved to the other end of the counter to await their coffee.

"An Americano guy? I would have thought you were a little more quadruple espresso with just the tiniest layer of 2% foam." Stiles nudged his side. "Not that I mind. Espresso's a bit much for me, too. From the coffee maker at home? Sure, I'll drink it black. Here? I think I'd be better off just licking the tires on my Jeep."

Snorting, Derek let one arm wrap around Stiles' shoulder. "Next time I think I need an undercarriage wash on the Camaro, I'll keep you in mind."

"Seriously?" Stiles struck a pose, one hip jutting out as he moved his hands to his waist. "You know you want me in a bikini washing your car in the sunshine."

Derek watched as the barista began to put lids on their cups. "Well, no bikini, but the rest would be a dream come true."

Stiles took his own coffee and the one for Lydia and grinned at Derek, shaking his head softly. "Derek Hale. Who knew you were funny?"

"Who said I was joking?" Derek asked as he picked up his own coffee and led the way back to the car.

"Oh, ha ha." Stiles slid into the passenger seat carefully, putting his coffee in the cup holder and setting Lydia's on the dash while he buckled his seatbelt. Clutching Lydia's coffee once more, he glanced at the clock. "And... now we're going to be a few minutes late, so it's a good thing we got the coffee." He pulled out his phone, using his thumb to send a text. "I let her know we're almost there."

Derek nodded and drove, his own coffee staying in hand as he did so. When they reached Lydia's house, she was already outside, tapping her foot. Stiles hopped out of the passenger seat and handed her the coffee. "Here you go. To make up for our tardiness."

She grabbed it from his hand with a hint of a smile. "Good. Boys who leave girls waiting should always make it up to them." She looked back to the Camaro. "Well? You don't seriously think I'm going to be sitting in the back, do you?"

With a sigh, Stiles fiddled with the seat until it folded forward and then slid into the back. "You know, Lydia, I don't think you needed to wear your entire jewelry collection all at once."

Her eyes widened and she pulled the seat back up again, climbing in. "I just wanted to be safe." She reached into her purse and pulled out Peter's necklace, handing it to Derek. "Besides, it's still not as tacky as this thing."

Derek wiggled in the seat until he could tuck the necklace in his pocket. "My uncle is... strange sometimes."

Stiles leaned forward from the backseat, eating another doughnut. "Sometimes? I think you mean always. His strangeness is a constant."

Lydia turned to glare at him. "Stiles, sit back and let the man drive. I want to get this necklace fixed."

"It looks like you have plenty of gold. Why do you need that one repaired right away?" Derek cleared his throat. "And it would also help if you told me where we're going."

"The jewelry store over on Main Street." Lydia flipped her hair back over her shoulder and took a long sip of her latte. "And that necklace... Jackson gave it to me. Right before he left." Derek didn't reply, just steeled his expression and drove.

Stiles held up the box of doughnuts. "Sugar?"

Lydia reached back and grabbed the cruller. "Sure. I'll take the one with the foreign flair."

"Stiles, are you getting sprinkles in my backseat?" There was a rustle as Stiles brushed the offending items onto the floorboards. "When you wash my car? Make sure to vacuum, too." 

With a huff of laughter, Lydia turned on the radio, flipping through the stations until she found something that she seemed to like, relaxing back into the seat with a smile. "Well, you guys have seen my gold, but what are you wearing?"

Stiles took a long sip of his macchiato before saying softly, "Um, I'm not?"

Lydia turned to look at him, then turned to Derek. "Tell me you're at least wearing something?"

Derek kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. "I have Peter's necklace in my pocket."

"I don't believe this. You know there's this thing out there that has basically only one weakness and you know what it is and yet you're not taking advantage of that weakness? You are both horrible bodyguards!" She held up her drink. "Decent gophers, but horrible bodyguards."

His shoulders tensed, Derek growled. "Do you really think something with its head under one arm is any match for me?"

"Considering how easily it dropped my gardener who was a black belt or something in jiu jitsu? I think maybe it might give you a run for your money. Besides, aren't you at least worried about Stiles? What if this thing saw him as competition and tried to take him out?" She glanced back at Stiles. "Not that I'd date you, really, but compared to this Dullahan? You're the obvious better choice."

Stiles nodded, his mouth tight. "And there's our dear, sweet Lydia."

Derek's eyebrows were knitted together as they turned onto Main Street, but he hadn't said anything by the time they parked and got out of the car, coffees still in hand. Derek came around the car, though, and walked very close to Stiles until they were inside the jeweler's shop. Lydia dug into her purse for her broken necklace. "You boys look around while I go talk to the guy at the counter."

Stiles was already glancing at watches, groaning at the high cost of them, particularly the ones that were 24 carat gold and would probably look like gold hamburger meat at the end of a week of him wearing it. Derek joined him a moment later. "She's right, you know. You should be wearing some kind of gold."

"I don't exactly have a jewelry box at home overflowing with gifts from my many suitors," he said with a roll of his eyes. "If only I'd known in the womb that I would need gold for this day, I would have changed one of my chromosomes!"

Derek just blinked at him. "You know that you can buy jewelry for yourself, right?" He looked over at Lydia who was telling the man at the counter that he was going to fix her necklace that day or die trying. "But, if you'll only accept it from a suitor... would you accept something from me?" He drained the rest of the coffee from his cup.

Stiles swallowed, his bottom lip trembling for a moment before he took a large swig of his drink. "I... I guess? I mean, I don't want you spending a ton of money or me or anything, but as you've got it to spend more than I do..."

"What do you want, then?" He traced one hand along the edge of the jewelry case, pausing to look at things every few seconds. "All of these necklaces look like some bouncer should be wearing them. No offense, but you'd look ridiculous. I don't really see you as a bracelet kind of guy. How about a ring?"

"Shouldn't you ask my father for my hand, first?" 

Derek's head lifted quickly enough that he felt like a jolt went through his body, but the smirk on Stiles' face made him shake his own head. "It would get around your inconvenient age."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I really doubt my dad would go for marrying off his only son at seventeen just so he could legally get his rocks off. Besides, I wouldn't want to get divorced like a month later."

"You assume I'd want a divorce." Derek leaned against the case, his gaze locked with Stiles'. "But, I don't want to lock you into something now where you can't easily get out."

"You should get a ring, too." Stiles shrugged, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Derek smiled brightly, leaning over to pull Stiles into an embrace. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Stiles. Yet. I... I still have issues to get over, and there are still things going on here that aren't exactly ideal, but the idea that you would even think about being stuck with me for years? I appreciate that a lot."

Stiles pointed to the next case over that had the trays of rings. "I don't want the diamond monstrosity."

"Really?" Derek pulled Stiles over toward it, keeping one arm around him. "Well, it would compete with your eyes for their sparkle."

"Do you know how to flirt when it isn't horrible and cliched?" Stiles punched Derek's shoulder, but then leaned heavily against his side. "Not that I don't like it, though, because on a scale of one to ten you're like a thirty-seven and the horrible flirting actually raised that by two points."

Derek laughed and looked down at the rings once more, his expression softening as he pointed to a ring in the corner. "How about that one?"

Stiles leaned forward to look at it, his breath catching. "Wow. If I didn't see a whole bunch of Celtic-looking stuff in that case, I'd think that was a plant. But, would I wear a ring that basically had a ring of your tattoo looping around it? Uh, yeah."

"Should I get something else or would you rather match."

"You're gonna make me say it?" Stiles buried his face in Derek's neck for a moment. "I'd want to match. What's the point in going through with this if we aren't utterly ridiculous about it?"

Derek let his hand come up to trace through the hair at the nape of Stiles' neck. "I may not seem the type, but I can do ridiculous."

Stiles leaned back into the touch. "Good. Because I'm ridiculous. Now, let's go see how Lydia's doing and then buy these." He lifted his drink and smiled before drinking the rest of it.

"Yeah." Derek let Stiles pull away from him, looked back at the ring with a lump in his throat. He had looked at rings for Kate back when he was young and stupid, but had never bought one. Then again, at that time, there had been an heirloom ring in his mother's jewelry box that he knew was for him to give to the person he intended to marry, a cabochon of moonstone flanked by faceted diamonds on either side on a band of white gold. The fire that took his family, though, had burned hot enough in that room to melt everything down into a clump of precious stones and metals. He'd thrown it all away, not caring that he could have sold it off. He had enough memories to dwell in. He pushed himself away from the counter and followed Stiles. It had taken him years to come to realization, but the happy memories he'd had the fortune to find did more to quell the bad ones than anything else.

Lydia was leaning against the counter across the store, drinking her coffee as she examined her hair for split ends. "Stiles said you guys are going to buy something gold now?"

"Yeah. Rings."

Her lips turning to a sneer, Lydia gestured to Derek's hand. "You're not going to have a problem with that when you do the wolf thing, are you?"

"No." Derek splayed his hand out in front of him. "My joints don't change. And even in I'm running in that form, it's not like it gets worn on my fingertip."

"I guess." She looked back and forth between Derek and Stiles, her eyes narrowing. "How long have you guys been a thing?"

Stiles leaned awkwardly against the counter. "Um, well, I guess that depends on what you consider a thing?"

"When did you first make out?" Lydia set down her coffee and crossed her arms over her chest.

Derek cleared his throat. "After he found the body in your bushes."

"Seriously?" Lydia laughed. "Well, I know it's been brewing for a while or whatever, but I'm glad you guys finally found each other. Or, rather, did something about it." She looked Derek over for a moment. "I have to say that I never really thought you'd be his type."

"Oh my god, Lydia, are you serious?" Stiles glared at her. "You don't have to go Mom on him. Don't you think he's got enough to deal with?"

Lydia smirked, reaching out to pat Stiles on top of his head. "Yes. I think he's got you to deal with now, and that's enough for anyone."

"It's okay, Stiles. She cares. Until that gets up to a level that the police would be concerned about, it's probably okay."

Stiles rolled his eyes and leaned backward against the counter. "Oh, good. Shop guy looks like he's on his way back over." He leaned back toward Lydia and Derek. "Look, I just get this feeling like I'm jinxing this by it even happening. Good stuff doesn't happen to me. But you've gotta keep trying for it or else it never will and... I've still got hope." He moved to gather their coffee cups, tossing them in the trash can on the other side of the counter.

Derek pursed his lips and nodded. Hope. That was the tiny ember of something in him that Stiles just seemed to stoke until it had ignited once more. He'd had hope before, but it had died down so much he didn't think he was even capable of it. How glad he was to be wrong. "I just hope that our plan works. And that it's enough."

"It will be." Lydia lifted her chin defiantly, then turned to face the shopkeep who had stopped to put Lydia's necklace in a new box. "It's fixed?"

"Yes. I changed it to a different style of clasp. This one is thicker and doesn't have the number of potential stress points that the last clasp did."

"Good. Now, ring me up and let these nice gentlemen buy what they're here for."

Derek lifted a hand toward the man. "Actually, let me pay for her repair, too."

Lydia gave him an appraising look, but nodded. "I'll let you. I'm sure you owe me for something."

Nodding, Derek gestured back to the case with the men's rings. "There's a ring over there that I need two of."

It didn't take long to get the rings, nor for Stiles to raise an objection when the total was announced at the register. "Dude, no! I totally didn't look at the price before and that's my fault, but you are not spending eight hundred dollars on me!"

Derek leveled a stare at him. "For one, it's seven hundred and fifty dollars. For two, you've saved my life before which kind of means I owe you. I can come up with a three and a four if you want, I'm sure."

"I'm gonna do your oil changes," Stiles said suddenly. "That and any other small repairs you need on your car. I'm going to make it up to you."

"Just stay alive, Stiles. That's the best possible return on my investment." Derek reached out to stroke Stiles' cheek while, at the same time, handing over his credit card. As he signed the slip, he let out a happy sigh. "Which hand are you going to wear it on?" he asked as he handed Stiles one of the ring boxes from the bag they'd been in.

Stiles opened the box and plucked the ring out, staring at it for a long moment before meeting Derek's eyes and sliding it on to his left ring finger. Suddenly, he frowned. "Okay, this one must be yours. It's too big for me."

Derek held out his own left hand with his ring finger extended and looked at Stiles expectantly until the ring was slid on. His heart was beating faster as he opened the other box and pulled out the ring, lifting Stiles' hand and sliding it onto his finger. "There we go. Safe. For now, at least."

"I swear if you two make me cry or vomit that I am not going to forgive you," Lydia said with a huff. "Now, come on. We have other things to buy."

"Time to buy a case of Goldschlager, I guess," Derek said as he opened the door for Lydia, motioning for Stiles to move through it, too.

Lydia shrugged. "Well, yes. But that's not the only thing. We have to hit a crafting store, too."

"Should I ask?" Derek unlocked the Camaro, opening the door for them.

Stiles just shook his head. "Nope. Just... trust her. I hope."

Derek took a deep breath and nodded. Hope. What a recurring theme to have.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but it's porny, so I hope that makes up for it.

Once the shopping was over, they had brought Lydia back home. Derek had been tempted to ask Stiles to come back to his place, but he had, instead, driven Stiles home. "You have other friends. Don't let them forget you."

Stiles had shaken his head. "That's one of those weird things about friendship. You don't actually have to keep in contact like that."

Derek had been forced to put his hands on Stiles' shoulders and explain. "They need to know the plan and, besides that, I don't know that I trust myself around you. This isn't a time to let yourself be... vulnerable."

"So I make you vulnerable?" Stiles seemed to have been torn between liking the thought and hating it, but he had nodded a moment later. Lifting his hand to show the ring on his finger, he had laughed. "We're safe, though."

He'd frozen and then pulled Stiles across the center console to practically sit in his lap. "We're safe from the Dullahan. But, not everyone is. I just... We need to be ready to take this thing down and soon. When I'm with you like I want to be, I'm not on guard like I need to be. It's dangerous. I've already done the being too into someone to notice the danger. These last couple of days have been amazing, but I'd rather not feel like more people died because I didn't do enough."

Stiles had looked at him and reached up to trace his fingers along Derek's facial hair and smiled. "If more people die, it's gonna suck a lot, dude. But, it's not going to be your fault. Instead, you need to look at the fact that you didn't have to do anything here, but you are, so we're gonna save a bunch of people. It never makes up for the fact that people have died, but Derek... never think you're not allowed to have a life outside of being this amazingly attractive hero. There's a part of you that's kind of just human, and you never seem to want to forgive that part of you."

His words had left Derek kind of speechless except for the muttered, "Goodbye," he got out as Stiles climbed out of the car and waved at him.

He was home now, at least, looking through his little box of mementos and wondering if maybe Stiles was right. So, okay, he hadn't exactly been the reason for the fire. He hadn't set it, hadn't known about it in advance and not told anyone... And he'd been young and stupid and in love, or in love with the idea of being in love. Sitting on his bed with mementos strewn out in front of him, it was almost too easy to let his mind try to fight the idea that maybe he could get on with grieving without constantly getting mired in guilt. He picked up a photo of his parents, tracing over it with one finger as a lump seemed to form in his throat. Their eyes were closed and they were leaning against each other, smiling. There was a cut in the photo along his father's cheek from where the glass had broken in the frame and the color was off on one corner from where there has been water damage from when the fire department had done their best to put out the fire. But as Derek held it closer to his face, he noticed one important thing: it no longer smelled like smoke. He picked up other things that had been in the box, holding them up to his nose and inhaling. Somehow, over the years, they had lost the acrid smell of the wood smoke. Tears pricked at his eyes as he packed everything away again.

With the box put away, Derek lay back on his bed, fingers weaved together as he let his hands rest against his abdomen. Maybe it was okay to move on as long as he never forgot. He had to take a few deep breaths, exhaling slowly after each one, before his mind could stop freaking out over everything. He lifted his hand up in front of his face, looking at the ring now adorning his finger. Past, present, and future. There were worries about all of them, but he'd made it through the past. The present was going remarkably okay. The future even had promise now. Maybe it was finally okay to stop holding on to all of his demons in order to see if they flew away on their own.

Despite the sun still streaming in through the blinds, Derek found himself dozing off. When he woke up, the sun was setting and the light that invaded the room was almost orange. He was ready to just roll out of bed and do something, anything, like he always did. Except, he'd been dreaming. He and Stiles had been back in the lake and they were drowning. Only, it wasn't a bad kind of drowning. They were more drowning in each other. They had been sinking lower and lower into the water, but it seemed like breathing wasn't a problem as long as they were touching. He didn't always remember his dreams, but this one... He was hard from it; hard enough that the very thought of getting out of bed and ignoring it... Instead, his hand trailed across his stomach and down the front of his pants, fingers already adjusting his erection.

He let the heel of his hand rub against his cock through his jeans, letting out a soft groan at the pressure. His other hand slid down his thigh until his fingers could curl around his balls. He looked upward, his eyes glued on nothing on the ceiling as his mind wandered. Derek continued to press his palm against his cock, dragging it up to brush against the head before pushing back down again so that his wrist scraped against the button of his pants. He didn't even have to direct his thoughts to Stiles. They went there naturally. And, if he were honest, he'd thought of Stiles before when stroking himself to completion, had leaned against the wall in the shower and imagined how the other man might look when giving a blow job, his pink lips stretched wide around Derek's cock and words spilling out when he pulled away to gasp for air after trying to take too much. He'd thought of the way Stiles would have no idea where to put his hands, but probably wouldn't think to just touch himself. And if Derek had plunged two fingers inside of himself there, maybe imagining that the fingers were long and thin and not his, and then come with the image of spilling himself across every mole on Stiles' body, well no one had to know and that was the best thing about the fact that actual psychics weren't a thing.

When he imagines Stiles this time, it's the Stiles he's learning more about now who is actually just a little bit more careful than Derek had ever imagined, and who can't seem to keep his tongue in his mouth when he's thinking, and who is more of a jack-of-all-trades type than anyone else Derek knows which is perfect because the hero's right hand man needs those qualities, even though Derek is sure now that hero doesn't fit him and that maybe he's actually just the tortured anti-hero. In a way, he's the bad guy. Only, Stiles seemed sure that Derek wasn't. Derek wondered how he could possibly trust Stiles more than he trusted himself, but hadn't he also earned it?

Derek groaned and finally undid the button of his jeans, pulling open the placket so that the zipper went down on its own, then shoving his boxer briefs out of the way so that his fingers could actually wrap around his cock, gripping his foreskin and moving it up and down a few times before pulling it back to catch below the glans. He lifted his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers as he began to squirm on the bed, before putting them back against his cock and hissing in relief as he was able to start a steady slide of his hand. The image of Stiles' mouth came back to mind again and Derek increased his pace, his hand a blur as he imagined that tongue tracing along his skin and those lips pressing against him and Stiles' teeth digging into Derek's shoulder and the sounds that Stiles might make while his long fingers traced through Derek's precome only to press them inside of Derek, ... 

His orgasm almost took him by surprise. He'd felt the sensation of it coiling up within him, that pleasure that was trying its best to burst forth and claim him for its own for a moment, but he was used to having to coax his body toward that enslavement. As he lay panting softly on the bed, stinking of sweat and come, Derek let out a soft burst of laughter. He'd learned enough French to read up on some of the more obscure information on werewolves and about the Argents, but one phrase has stuck out to him: _la petite mort_. So many people just thought it was a euphemism for orgasm, but Derek had read a little further, intrigued. Rather, it was the spiritual release that came with it; the transcendence. 

As he shucked off his shirt and used it to clean himself up before tossing it in his hamper, Derek inhaled deeply and let himself just be happy for a moment, despite everything that was wrong. For once, it seemed like some things were going right even though they were still complicated.

He grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom, taking a very long shower that was hot enough to nearly burn. He stood there under the spray, letting his thoughts sluice away with the water and head down the drain. He had people who loved him and people he loved and that... It was enough. There were regrets he had, but he couldn't let those overwhelm everything else. Past, present, and future. None of the legs on the triskele were longer than the others because those three aspects were equal. What once was shouldn't be allowed to overwhelm what could be.

When the water finally ran cold, Derek only allowed himself to stand there for a few moments, soothing the burn from the previous heat, before getting out and drying off, returning to his room to toss on pajamas before stopping in the kitchen for food, grabbing a bag of Doritos leftover from the impromptu planning session the other day and promptly grabbing the controller for the PS3. He had some Street Fighter II to play.

A while later, though Derek really couldn't tell how much time had passed, Peter opened the door and raised an eyebrow at him. "You're smiling."

Derek shrugged one shoulder as he let his fingers flit across the buttons, the combos coming back to him. "I do that sometimes."

"No, Derek, you actually look happy." He sat next to Derek, rubbing his nephew's shoulder. "It's a good look on you. I hadn't seen it in so long... I'd forgotten."

Finishing his fight, Derek turned to Peter, his mouth turning back downward. "Are you saying I don't look good when I brood?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Does it matter what I think when it comes to how you look? Your jailbait boyfriend likes it. That should be enough." He grabbed the bag of Doritos and took it with him as he left the room, a telltale crunch echoing through the apartment a moment later.

Derek let his head fall back on the couch. Right. Stiles was still 9 months or so away from legal for pretty much anything that Derek had imagined. With most other people, it would probably be easy to tell himself that no one would find out anyway so what did laws matter when there were plenty of others he flouted. But, Stiles... he didn't want to fuck this up. He took another deep breath, holding it as he started another fight. There was time to worry later, and that was one of the most comforting thoughts he'd had in a long time.


	10. Chapter 10

Stiles rubbed at his neck as he picked up his phone, brows furrowing as he glanced at the time and the caller. "Lydia, it's not even six in the morning. Why are you calling me?" His last word erupted with a yawn.

There was a gasp of breath on the other end that made it sound like Lydia was running. "Four this time, Stiles. All from the local community college. All girls. All strawberry blondes."

"Oh, fuck." Stiles ran a hand through his hair, clenching his eyes shut before opening them again, hoping he could focus a little this time. "Is this you starting the phone chain or whatever?"

He heard a soft laugh. "No. It's me telling you to finish it. Call Derek and let him know we're all coming over. This ends today." She hung up and Stiles stared at his phone for a moment before reaching over to fumble with his lamp, turning it on with a groan as light flooded the room. Sitting up, Stiles went to his recent contacts, tapping at Derek's name before hitting send. 

"Yeah?" Derek sounded far more awake than Stiles was when he answered.

"Hey, Derek. So, um, four new murders happened overnight so I got called and told to tell you we're all coming over, so I guess I'll see you in a few?"

"Peter's already in the kitchen making pancakes and bacon." Derek sounded almost scandalized by it and Stiles had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

Clearing his throat, Stiles kicked off his sheets and headed toward his closet. "Well, if we're going to fight the supernatural, we need a hearty breakfast." He paused. "Does Peter make homefries?"

"Just get over here." Derek hung up and Stiles pulled out a t-shirt to slip on, wondering why it was that all of his friends could make time for breakfast, but not saying "Later, Stiles!" or something equally insipid. It didn't keep him from getting dressed in a rush and grabbing his things, only remembering at the last second to leave a note for his father to say he and Scott were going to get in some lacrosse practice. It wasn't necessarily a lie. There was every chance the day would provide activities much like lacrosse practice, particularly in the running aspect.

It wasn't until Stiles got in his Jeep and started it that he groaned, remembering that he'd intended to get gas after riding around talking to Scott the previous evening, but hadn't. At least he'd actually gone home and gotten some sleep. He'd been tempted to try to contact Derek to see about potentially making out for a whil, but then he'd decided that maybe Derek had seen enough of him to last him a little while. With the early morning wake up call, though, he was the tiniest bit glad of the sleep over the making out. Stiles stopped at the first gas station that he saw was open and pulled up to the pump, filling it up on autopilot. He paused before taking of, making a split-second decision to run into the attached convenience store for snacks to store in the Jeep. He'd depleted the supply from his center console only the day before with Scott. He wouldn't mind so much, but even the food he hid in the house sometimes went missing thanks to his dad.

When Stiles did let himself into Derek's apartment, he was finally awake enough to plaster on a smile as he looked at everyone sitting around and eating. Granted, all of the werewolves looked like they were a second from turning even as they shoveled food into their faces, Lydia was clutching her necklace in one hand, and Allison was doing something with her arrows that Stiles couldn't quite tell what. "Sorry, I had to stop and get gas."

Derek came stalking up to him and Stiles had to quell his grin a little... until he realized that Derek was holding out a plate for him... and there were homefries on it. "Good. You and I are going to be in your Jeep today."

"We are?" Stiles took a seat at the table and started covering his pancakes with syrup. "I thought you didn't know how to drive stick and that's why the Camaro's an automatic."

Ah, there it was. His first eyebrow raise of the day. Stiles' heart was warmed. "You'll be driving. I'll be throwing Molotov cocktails. We hashed out the rest of the plan before you got here."

Shoving half a strip of bacon into his mouth, Stiles nodded. "So, we're doing this on Sampson. That wheeling trail thing I've never actually taken in my Jeep before. And we're doing this with fire. Okay, good. Just making sure there's no danger involved."

"Funny." Scott stabbed a homefry, then pointed it at Stiles. "You kind of took Jackson's Porche wheeling once. I think you can manage the vehicle you always drive that's actually designed for that."

Stiles nodded, then shoved more food into his mouth. He paused once he'd chewed enough for the flavor to kick in, turning to Peter to give him a thumbs up. "Excellent breakfast, Peter. I forgive you for a solid ten percent of the come-ons you've given me."

Derek leaned down next to him to place a cup of coffee by his side, then grumbled, "Forgive him nothing. No one ever holds Peter accountable. Especially not Peter."

Coughing as a homefry nearly went down his windpipe when Derek's hand brushed against his inner thigh, Stiles looked around once more. "And... what, exactly, is Peter's part in this plan?"

Lydia stabbed at her food, leaning onto once hand with a sigh. "He's going to be on the other side of town causing a distraction so that we don't have to deal with police."

Or the Sheriff. Stiles grinned, the grim determination that had been filling him releasing him enough for his trust in the abilities of their team to replace it. There was so much else that they had managed together that this was really just one more thing. This thing wanted Lydia and they were collective Daddy with a shotgun. Something did give him pause, enough to let him lay his fork down and get up from the table, even if he did bash his knee against it in the process and spill some of his coffee. Stiles ran up to Derek in the kitchen where he was putting things in the sink, one hand coming up to wrap around Derek's wrist. "Hey, uh, you okay?"

Derek flicked water off of the fingertips of his other hand and then wiped them against his shirt before pulling Stiles into a hug. "Yeah. I think I am. Or, rather, as much as I can be when we're about to throw ourselves into this."

Stiles wanted to ask more questions, to wonder how Derek wasn't blaming himself for four girls he didn't know being dead when Stiles would have sworn that he'd be a wreck, but instead he just pressed his syrup-sticky lips against Derek's and pulled away with a smile. "We'll get through. Although, we should probably go take the top off my Jeep. Extra mobility is kind of a good thing."

"Yeah, it is." Derek held out his hand. "Give me your keys. I'll get Peter to help me. He used to have a Jeep."

Pulling the keys from his pocket, Stiles tucked them into Derek's with a bit to his lower lip. "Be gentle with her. And, one of the screws is stripped so have fun with that. Have fun bringing the top up here, too. At least your door's big enough?"

Derek let out a soft huff of laughter before pulling Stiles into a tight hug. "Go finish your breakfast. We'll get everything ready." He pressed a kiss to Stiles' forehead before shoving him back toward the table. Before he knew it, Peter and Derek had headed downstairs, leaving Stiles at a table with four people who looked at him expectantly. "What?"

Isaac dragged his fork through a puddle of syrup on his place. "You are sure we can trust Derek and Peter, right?" He looked up Stiles suddenly, his gaze penetrating.

Stiles took a long sip of coffee before saying anything. "Yeah. Well, Derek we can. Peter... he's a loose cannon. But he always does the things he thinks are right and Peter would never want innocent people to have body parts hacked out. I think."

Lydia rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "What a vote of confidence." She pointed to the ring on Stiles' hand. "But, I think that would at least stop Peter from doing something horrible enough that his little nephew would hate him forever. Peter's creepy and dangerous, but he's still pretty loyal and capable. Besides, Peter and I... we have something of an agreement. You know, one where he's supposed to make up for things he's done to me?"

Hugging the hand his new ring was on to his chest, Stiles shrugged. "I doubt Derek exactly sees me as a _forever_ kind of option, Lydia. Besides, he probably wouldn't even touch me until I was eighteen. Well, okay, some touching, but not the _bad_ touch."

Scott put his hands over his ears and grimaced. "Dude, I don't wanna hear that at breakfast! You told me all about the ring yesterday."

Isaac leaned in to look at it. "Huh. Well, if I had doubts about Derek actually liking you, they're gone now. He bought you a ring like that?"

Stiles went back to poking at his food. "We just happened to be in the jewelry store. It was just a thing we picked out because we saw the symbol and liked it so, voila, matching set. It's like a best friends necklace, except with making out."

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, Allison leaned forward, her expression earnest. "Stiles, Derek isn't exactly the kind of guy who does expensive gifts for just anyone."

"So you don't think he was the one who outfitted Erica after her amazing transformation?" Stiles downed half of his coffee in one long gulp after speaking, his nerves ramping up his second-guessing of everything.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "I think he paid, at least. Erica did sexy without really bothering with trendy. "But, rings mean something, Stiles. And, if he'd wanted to? He could have found the cheapest thing in the place if it were just for safety. For God's sake, the man lived in an abandoned subway station or whatever for a while. I don't think he necessarily makes it a point to live in the lap of luxury. The ring? That's like a human version of marking and while Derek might be pretty wolfy even for a werewolf, he's still adaptable." She shrugged, her eyes seeming to sear Stiles as she looked at him. "Besides, if you get married before having sex, even the State of California wouldn't have anything to say about it."

"I think my dad would, though," Stiles said with a groan, pushing away his plate so he could cross his arms on the table top and let his head rest against them. "If I die today, I'm dying a virgin, and that sucks."

The door opened and Derek brought the hard top of Stiles' Jeep in, settling it against a wall. "No one's dying today except the Dullahan. Now, get up. Go to the bathroom or whatever you need first, but let's do this."

With a lick of his lips, Stiles stood up from the table and moved over to his hard top, looking it over. "How much did you actually hear?" he asked as he ran his hand over the one stripped screw.

"Enough." Derek pulled him up, looking at him. "When we get through today, I get the feeling we're going to have a long talk about our feelings. And, I also get the feeling that you're not going to let me get in a lot of talking once you hear how I feel."

"Really?" Stiles cracked a smile, laughing. "Well, we'll see."

"We're going to live, Stiles. I'm sure of it." Derek stood tall, and Stiles found himself nodding. If Derek was sure (and there), then things were probably going to work out.

After a second, though, he frowned thoughtfully. "Now, if I get injured, though, are you doing to dress up as a sexy nurse and take care of me? Because that would kind of work for me."

"First of all, nurses now pretty much just wear scrubs. And second? Don't get injured."

With a nod, Stiles brought his hand up to rest against Derek's chest. "I'll do what I can." He paused. "You'd totally be sexy in scrubs, though."

"Good to know." Derek turned Stiles around, slapping his ass softly. "Get down to the Jeep so Peter can give you the keys and then head off to create his distraction."

"Right." Stiles returned the favor by pinching Derek's butt on his way past, laughing at the soft squeak Derek let out before heading down to look at his Jeep.

Peter was leaning against the Jeep, looking straight at Stiles. "Thank you, Stiles."

"Huh?" Stiles ran one hand over the side of the Jeep, looking at the holes where the screws went to attach the hard top. It looked so different without it. "I just came down to get the keys."

"Not for that." Peter jerked one thumb toward the ignition. "The keys are there already. But, what I'm thanking you for is for whatever you've done to Derek to make him start to heal where being a werewolf wasn't doing anything."

Hands at his sides, Stiles swallowed. "You think I had anything to do with it? Derek's strong, Peter. I think he just got there on his own."

With a snort, Peter pushed away from the Jeep. "Derek is in love with you, dumbass. That's the strength he's got right now and it's what's going to keep him going. I'd give you the spiel about not breaking his heart or I'd break you, but think that's the speech I'd have to give Derek if he weren't so damned besotted. Well, off to see a man about a crime."

Stiles' brows knitted together as he processed Peter's words. Maybe... just maybe... Was there a chance that everyone was right? He thought of them all and found himself nodding. He didn't really do the pack thing, but if he did? All of those people would be pack, and they not only seemed to think that Derek actually felt something for Stiles, but that he deserved it or something. Okay, except Lydia. But she seemed happy enough to recognize that his affections had moved on. And maybe... just maybe that was enough. 

He hopped into the Jeep and buckled in, starting it up and fiddling with the controls so that the air conditioning wasn't running and the radio was tuned to an acceptable station. He only had to wait a few moments before everyone else came down, taking the time to dose up on Adderall to hopefully prevent him from crashing just because he saw so much shiny stuff. He nodded at Scott, Isaac, and Allison as they walked past, holding up one fist as a reminder to stay strong or fight... or however they took it. He knew they were heading out first to prepare the trail, but he honestly couldn't remember what they were doing to it. Shortly, Lydia and Derek joined him in the Jeep and Stiles took a deep breath. "Everyone ready?"

"Ready to go throw myself at a guy who isn't even a guy? Sure, why not." Lydia huffed as she buckled herself into the backseat. "You know, I thought I was done with having to fake the damsel in distress thing."

Derek gave her a strange look, but Stiles nodded as he pulled out of his parking space. "You know you're really just facilitating your own survival here, right?"

"Well, yes, but mostly I just want this to be over with. Eww, especially since this top down thing isn't doing any wonders for my hair." She groaned. "And the Dullahan is going to have that creepy bone carriage thing going on. I'm totally treating myself to a hot oil treatment tomorrow."

"There's my girl," Stiles said with a snort of laughter. "Today's the day that only the bad guy dies. Let's make sure of it."

"Let's go on a hunt for the headless horseman." Derek let his fingers brush against the back of Stiles' hand on the gear shifter before pulling back. "Lydia, you'll probably want to take off your gold now."

Glancing in the rear view mirror occasionally as he drove, Stiles watched as Lydia took off the necklace, coiling it in one hand afterward and staring at it for a moment before she reached up to hand it to Derek, shouting to be heard over the sound of the wind, "If you lose this? I will make a flower crown of wolfsbane for you to wear."

Derek tucked it into his pocket, nodding. "Got it." Stiles wondered how Derek didn't actually seem afraid, then realized he didn't know Lydia as well as Stiles did. If he did... he'd be very afraid.

Stiles was glad of his full tank of gas as he drove around town, Lydia's hair streaming out behind them as she glanced around, all of them on the lookout for anything unusual. "Water," Lydia said suddenly. "All of the deaths happened near water. My pool, the docks by the lake, the pond at the college... Head toward the river!"

Stiles hung a quick right turn, wincing as one of his tires left the ground briefly. He headed toward the river, wondering if it were possible that they were going to catch this lucky break. It took ten minutes of following the river slowly enough that Stiles wondered if he should just put it in neutral and follow the grade of the hill, but suddenly Lydia screamed, the sound echoing off the trees. "I should've thought to have you do that sooner," Derek said with a groan. "We already have company."

"The dating rituals of the mythical harbingers of death who are actually kind of real," Stiles quipped, heading toward the start of the trail with a fair amount of trepidation. "You know, when I said I was going to try to make this my best summer ever, I figured there would be a lot more ice cream and a lot less trying not to die."

"There can be ice cream later, Stiles. Just drive!" There was a clang as Lydia took off her seatbelt, turning on the seat and standing on it, crouched down and holding on tightly. "Just get me past Allison."

Stiles shifted into third gear and accelerated, lips a straight line as he focused on Allison when she appeared in front of him. It seemed to take forever before he actually passed her, sending him closer and closer to the trail. He could see it marked already, trees seeming to shine within the confines of the forest. It wasn't until he was almost there that he realized they were shining. There was gold on the trees. Well, at least now the stop at the craft store was explained. Stiles had been there, of course, but he'd also been distracted by, well, everything.

There was a whizzing noise that made Stiles turn his head around, watching Allison nock another arrow before sending it into the ground behind them, several matching ones already framing the way behind them. Each one was coated with gold leaf and Stiles jerked his head back around. Okay. If Isaac and Scott had done their job, they were essentially penned in with this thing now. No big deal. Just Molotov him with the Goldschlager and then... "Derek, set him on fire!"

"Not yet!" Derek gestured toward the trail. "We want near the stream that crosses through here. Just in case."

Then Lydia did the unthinkable and jumped out of the back of the Jeep and into the bone carriage. It whipped past them a moment later and Stiles wondered just how much plan actually got discussed before he got there that morning and how much his friends were being stupid and going off the cuff. He steeled his fingers on the steering wheel and downshifted to second gear to climb over the rocks and roots that made up most of the trail in front of them, hoping the bone carriage would soon be having similar troubles.


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles' mouth was dry as he turned to Derek, shouting to be heard. "Did we actually check to make sure this thing couldn't vanish into thin air?"

Derek shook his head. "There's aren't actually any true magic creatures, Stiles. No ghosts, no vampires, nothing that could actually do that. And if I'm right, this thing is running on a primal instinct and doesn't have the ability to do much against us except slashing us open."

"Because that's not enough?!" Stiles grunted as they hit a large root, downshifting into first gear to climb over it. "Why did she jump in there?"

"Lulling it into a false sense of security. It's why we have to get to the stream. She can jump out and avoid the fire." Derek reached up to grab onto the rollbar as Stiles shifted up again to get them through a short turn, the tires skidding as he straightened out.

Stiles forced himself to loosen his grip on the steering wheel, swallowing as he noticed one of the bones on the ground and inhaling sharply as he ran over it, hearing it break under the weight of the Jeep. He could have swerved to avoid it, but time was more of the essence now than the sanctity of a dead man's bones. "Just... Derek. That fire better light, man."

"I know." Derek was already readying a bottle of Goldschlager, having added motor oil to two of the six bottles before stuffing a rag in each. One sat unassuming in Stiles' cupholder. The other was in Derek's left hand while a Zippo lighter was in his right, ready to flick at a moment's notice.

The part of Stiles' heart that was warmed by the fact that his Jeep was doing awesome things as he trawled over the rugged terrain was shrouded by the horror of watching the carriage in front of him slowly disintegrating beneath Lydia as the bone carriage was pulled across the same ground. She looked terrified, but strong, and Stiles realized that it was a look she was slowly coming to own as much as any of her others. They were nearing the stream now. Stiles had spotted it from the crest of the last hill, but there was one more small hill for them to take. The horses found their way up for the side with the ease that only an animal had. Stiles gunned it with the Jeep and cursed when his tires spun in the muddy ground. 

With a deep breath, Stiles engaged the four wheel drive, holding his breath as they began to climb the hill slowly. The tires still skidded here and there, but they made it to the top. Stiles disengaged the four wheel and shifted it into first. Letting out the breath he'd been holding, he eased his foot off of the clutch while practically stomping down on the accelerator, shuddering in fear as the Jeep jerked forward before barreling down the hill and toward the Dullahan and his carriage. "Lydia!"

There was a heart-stopping moment where Lydia threw herself out of the carriage, her body falling at an angle that seemed to stop Stiles' heart. If it could be driven through, it wasn't very deep. Before they were close enough to see, Stiles could hear the _snick_ of the lighter beside him. A short moment later, Derek's movement caught his eye, letting him watch as the other man drew his arm back before letting fly with the first bottle. It glanced off the back of the carriage, knocking something else loose before falling in the water, and Stiles shifted into third, grinding the gears of his transmission to get closer. He could see strawberry blonde hair, but still had no clue whether Lydia was hurt.

Another bottle sailed through the air. This time, it hit. Stiles watched in both horror and fascination as the Dullahan caught alight, the air suddenly thick with smoke and the scent of cinnamon. Stiles pulled the emergency brake and hopped out of the Jeep, running toward where Lydia was even as Scott and Isaac jumped into the bone carriage. Isaac gripped the Dullahan's arm, Scott the head tucked underneath, and they pulled. Stiles had no doubt that they would manage to rend its head away, especially as the carriage broke apart enough for the horses to get away.

When he was close enough, Stiles finally got a glimpse of Lydia. She wasn't bloody, but she wasn't moving either. Stiles worked his legs harder, climbing the last bit up toward the water before sliding in and grabbing Lydia, pulling her up to his chest. "Lydia, are you okay?" She let out a soft groan and he relaxed, holding her to his chest as they sat in the pool beside the giant rock that Stiles was glad he wouldn't need to cross as he wasn't sure his Jeep had the right clearance to avoid bottoming out on the skidplate. He looked up at the carriage and the ashy mess now coating it, fire still blazing around. "Hey, guys, someone thought to actually clear all of the burnable stuff from the area, right?"

Isaac was the first to jump down from the carriage, scurrying to pick up dead branches, leaves, and grass, Scott joined him a moment later after giving the burnt Dullahan a final glance. Derek moved closer to where Lydia and Stiles were. "Is she injured?"

Stiles wondered how he could have thought his mouth was dry before. Clearly, this was dry now with the firepit of bones only a few feet away and the water surrounding him completely undrinkable and Derek looking at him with concern. "I don't know. She made a noise, but she didn't actually answer me."

Suddenly, Lydia raised one hand, waving it with a lot of effort, and Stiles let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Derek climbed over the rocks toward them, crouching down on the flattest rock. "Lydia, where are you injured?" He reached out to touch her shoulder and Stiles watched as dark lines slid up Derek's veins, siphoning off her pain.

"I think my ankle's broken," Lydia finally gasped out. "I tripped on a damn humerus jumping out of that thing!"

"Okay, good." Stiles shook his head. "Not good that you're injured, but good that it's something we can actually take you out of the water for. Anything else? Did you hit your head or anything?"

Lydia shook her head softly. "Mild abrasions on my palms and I grazed my solar plexus against a plane of the rock, knocking the wind out of me for a moment. Just... get me out of here."

Meeting Derek's gaze, Stiles did his best to help lift Lydia out of the water, glad when Derek got his hands under her enough to lift her up to his chest. "I'm going to try to be as gentle as I can driving back, Lydia, but my suspension isn't the greatest anyway and bumpy trails and broken ankles don't exactly..."

"I'll carry her." 

Stiles looked up at Scott, a line of ash smudged across his forehead. "I can get her past the rocky part and then hand her off once we get out to where Allison is. I think Lydia would much rather ride to the hospital in Allison's car anyway."

Isaac glanced back at the pile of bones and embers. "Do we just leave that there?"

"Yeah. Someone else will come out here and see it and they'll find that a lot of those bones belong to recent murder victims. By that point, they'll have found the man Peter killed." Derek handed Lydia off carefully to Scott, then plucked at his shirt where it was wet against his chest.

"Whoa! Wait a second. Who did Peter kill?" Stiles had been in the process of wringing out his own shirt when Derek dropped that news. He glanced up toward where Scott was, glad that at least it seemed like Lydia was no longer in hearing range.

Derek gave Stiles a strange look, one that didn't seem to translate to any emotion he thought his words should have set off. "There was a man who escaped from Eichen House a week or two ago. He was probably the actual killer here. The Dullahan... he's a harbinger of death, but he doesn't actually kill on his own. He's happy to scavenge off the bodies, though. This guy... Tom Belvedere? He was arrested years ago for attempted murder of two women. The only thing they had in common was the color of their hair."

"I'm guessing strawberry blonde?" Isaac's jaw squared as he clenched his teeth.

"You got it." Derek shook his head. "Peter... He went looking on his own to find information and found that. He didn't tell me what he was up to until this morning. It... it works for us. Anything they find, they'll pin to him. But, I didn't want Lydia to know. It's enough to have a creature stalking you with the intention of making you its bride. Potential serial killer on the loose stalking you? That's... a lot to deal with."

Stiles moved over to his Jeep, opening up the door and sliding into the driver's seat. "You guys getting in?"

Isaac hopped into the back while Derek actually used the door to climb back into the passenger seat. "Are you angry?" Derek adjusted the remaining bottles of Goldschlager at his feet.

Starting a three-point turn, Stiles shook his head. "I feel like I should be, but I'm not. We just kind of saved Lydia twice over, then. I'd be mad that you didn't tell anyone about it, but it's Peter who didn't tell you. You can't help wanting to save your family. And he did kind of make sure my dad wasn't going to be in danger over here." He paused. "Lacrosse," he said suddenly, finishing the turn as more of a seven-pointer.

"Um, what?" Isaac leaned forward enough to be heard.

"Lacrosse," Stiles shouted back. "Lydia broke her ankle. Several of us are wet. We need an explanation of where we were." He glanced at Derek. "Any chance you played in school?"

"I played basketball," Derek said so softly that Stiles had to puzzle out the sounds for a moment before the words made sense.

Isaac leaned forward again. "Which means you knew footwork stuff you could teach us."

Stiles focused on the trail this time, avoiding the bones that he could see and wincing at the sight of the ones he'd crushed. It was still somewhat difficult to maneuver around them going slowly, but they managed. By the time they reached the area where Allison's car was parked, Lydia had just been loaded into the back seat with her ankle elevated. "We were playing lacrosse," Stiles said as he parked next to her and hopped out. "There was a mini scrimmage between all of us and Lydia, Derek, and I won, so you guys poured water on us from one of the coolers. Lydia went to climb the bleachers to sit and dry in the sun and slipped. Does that plan work for everyone?"

Scott scowled briefly, but nodded. "I was going to say that I should be on the winning team, but I do think that any team with Lydia on it would probably win anyway, so I think that works."

Allison folded her arms over her chest as she looked at Lydia. "We were lucky today, weren't we?"

"You mean because the real killer's dead now?" Lydia smirked from the backseat, even though her breathing was a shuddery mess. "Or, at least he should if Peter did his job."

"There was a 'real' killer?" Allison's head cocked to one side.

Derek grinned, a short burst of laughter issuing forth. "So, Peter came to you for help in figuring things out about someone who was trying to kill you, but didn't tell me anything until this morning. Yeah, that's Peter for you."

"Exactly. But, lacrosse. That works. I think everyone would need to come with us to the hospital for the lie to stick, then. So, boys, we'll see you there." Lydia gave them a wave as Scott closed the door and then climbed into the passenger seat.

Climbing back into the Jeep, Stiles took a moment to take several deep breaths. He jumped in his seat when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to look at Derek. "You know, the crazy thing is that I could probably just tell my dad that I came out here to go wheeling with you guys and he wouldn't bat an eye. On my sixteenth birthday, he told me that he expected me to go out and live life and do what I wanted to do and he'd be okay with it all... as long as he didn't catch me doing anything illegal. It was funny. At first, I thought he meant just not to do anything illegal. But, it's been over a year since then and the way he's reacted to some things... I'm pretty sure he really meant just not to actually get caught. Plausible deniability or whatever." He put the Jeep into first gear, smiling as they started to follow the path Allison had taken. 

Derek kept his hand on Stiles' shoulder for a while, looking back at the trail entrance and nodding. "It's a good thing it didn't rain earlier like it was supposed to. The ground is dry enough that there aren't enough tracks to say there were multiple vehicles here."

"Guys, does the ride feel a little weird to you? Back here it just-" 

There was a loud sound and Stiles immediately stopped the Jeep. "That thing didn't come back to life, did it? We burned it!"

"Stiles?" Derek rubbed his thumb against the back of Stiles' neck. "I think it's a flat tire."

"Oh." Stiles paused. "Um, I'm not exactly sure where my jack is right now."

Derek got out of the Jeep, moving around to look at the flat, then gestured for Isaac to join him. "We'll lift it. Get your spare and wrench and get over here."

Stiles hurried to get his full-size spare and lug wrench, rolling the wheel over toward Derek and nodding. Derek and Isaac each put their hands under the frame, lifting the Jeep high enough that the wheel was a few inches off the ground. Stiles knew about werewolf strength enough to trust their grip, but wasn't sure how long they could actually hold it, so he went to work as quickly as possible, pulling off the lugs and the old tire before slotting the new tire on and threading the lugs back. "There. Let it back down." Once the Jeep was back on the ground, Stiles gave the lugs one more round of tightening before going to toss the flat tire into the back of the Jeep. "I wonder what made it go flat? None of the rocks in there looked that sharp."

Isaac cleared his throat and pointed to a spot on the tread where a large shard of bone was sticking out. "I think your problem was this." He wiggled it back and forth until it could pull out, then tossed it into the woods. "I'm getting a little too used to things like this, I think."

"You're not the only one." Stiles got back in the driver's seat, waiting for Derek and Isaac to get situated before taking off. "I think that's the fastest tire change I've ever seen other than in racing."

"Seen? You're the one who did it." Derek raised one eyebrow at him and Stiles suddenly felt like everything was okay again. If the Derek Hale Eyebrow Olympics were happening, nothing could go wrong.

Stiles shrugged. "You guys did the hard part."

Isaac sighed. "I was going to be a headless horseman for Halloween. I don't think I want to anymore."

Derek glanced back at him. "Go as a werewolf. Then you don't even need to buy anything."

"That's lame." Stiles looked back at Isaac, then caught the look that Derek gave him. "What? It is. At least go as Chewbacca or something. Derek can be Han Solo."

"And you'll be Luke Skywalker?" Isaac grinned, leaning forward.

Stiles shook his head. "I, good sir, would be Obi-wan. We could probably get Scott to be Luke. Unless you want me to try to get him to dress as Yoda instead?"

Derek grinned... but he didn't say no.

By the time they got inside the hospital, Lydia had seen the triage nurse, was now in a wheelchair with her leg elevated, and was waiting to get wheeled in for an x-ray. "What took you so long?"

Stiles held up his hands, showing off the black smudges on his fingers. "We got a flat."

"The nurse said you'll all going to have to wait out here during my x-ray, but I called my mom and she's on her way. Once she gets here, you guys should be able to leave." She looked around at her friends, smiling suddenly. "Hey, don't feel bad about my broken ankle. I wanted exciting things to happen this summer, and this counts. But, I've had enough excitement for a little while so this is going to force me to sit down a lot and catch up on watching all of the documentaries I have in my Netflix queue."

Allison burst out laughing at the idea, then wrapped her arms around Lydia in a tight hug. "You're going to be fine."

"Of course I am." Lydia tossed her hair back, wincing as the motion jarred her body. "We all are."

They sat down in a cluster around Lydia, everyone talking over one another as they threaded together several conversations at once. Lydia's mother showed up just as the nurse called her back. They said their goodbyes after Lydia promised to contact them later as her mother followed her back to the x-ray room, leaving the five of them standing around. 

Isaac moved a little closer to Allison and Scott before looking at Derek. "I think we're probably going to go get something to eat."

Stiles noted the lack of invitation, but he also figured that there was reason enough behind it. "Derek and I... I think we're gonna go play some video games."

They said their goodbyes and filtered back out to their vehicles, Derek climbing back into the passenger seat as Stiles took the driver's seat once more. "Did you really want to go play video games?"

Licking his lips, Stiles shook his head. "I was hoping for something a little more life-affirming than that." He turned to grin at Derek, winking as he shifted into gear. "I hope you're in the mood for that, too."

"Whatever you're in the mood for, I'm sure I am, too." Derek leaned back against the headrest, enjoying the sun and the breeze and being next to Stiles.


	12. Chapter 12

Stiles flopped down on Derek's couch with a groan. "Why couldn't Peter be here for putting the top _back_ on my Jeep? I know you were the one who carried it, but some of those screws were a bitch to get to."

Shoving a can of soda into Stiles' hand, Derek huffed out a breath and sat next to him. "I'm aware. Who do you think had to get to them all when we went to take it off and everything was pretty much stuck in place?"

"Uh... Well, I guess I assumed Peter did. But, he also doesn't seem much like the manual labor type." Stiles opened his soda and started drinking, downing half of it before setting it down. "So, um, _did_ you want to play video games?"

Derek let his arm slide behind Stiles' head across the top of the couch. "I'm pretty sure I told you that whatever you're in the mood for works for me."

Stiles nodded, unconsciously leaning against Derek's arm even as his fingers threaded together to try to stop their excessive movement. "So, making out?"

"I could go for making out. But, I should warn you that Peter should be coming back at some point, so if you want to go to my bedroom to avoid him walking in on anything, that's an option." Derek shifted on the couch so that he was angled toward Stiles.

"Hmm, making out on a couch where your creepy uncle could walk in, or making out on your bed? That is not even a question. Show me your bedroom." Stiles stood up, tongue out and moistening his lips in anticipation.

Derek grabbed one of Stiles' hands, guiding him toward the bedroom. "Let's not talk about Peter anymore. In fact, let's not talk." He gave Stiles' arm a tug, pulling him closer until he could wrap his arms around him, his mouth meeting Stiles'.

Stiles let out a soft moan, muffled by Derek's lips, his hands scrabbling for purchase against Derek's back until he had handfuls of his shirt. His eyes closed as he focused on the feel of Derek's lips, moving against them. There was a squeak as Derek's bedroom door opened and then Stiles was being lead backward carefully until the back of his knees hit the bed and then suddenly he was flat on his back in a heap with a laughing Derek which made up entirely for the fact that one of Derek's elbows had been against his ribs when they fell.

Before Stiles could make a quip about it, Derek crawled on top of him, kissing him again. Stiles used his hands to push himself further up the bed with Derek following him, their mouths never really parting. He forgot entirely about why he was even bothering when Derek's weight settled against him, his ass against the front of Stiles' pants. Stiles let his hands move to Derek's hips, thumbs brushing against the skin right above his waistband just as Derek's tongue quested against Stiles' lips.

Their teeth clacked together as Stiles shifted his hips upward and Derek made some noise so primal that Stiles couldn't name it. For a moment, Derek pulled away and pulled off his shirt before leaning back down to kiss Stiles once more, the motion flexing each of his abdominal muscles in quick succession. Stiles let his hands move across the planes of Derek's flesh, feeling how warm he was and testing where he was sensitive, even if he was distracted from the task often by the feel of Derek's mouth against his.

There was something so clean and alive about the taste of Derek's mouth, so everything that brushes with death were not, and Stiles couldn't help himself. He let one arm come up to circle behind Derek's neck, holding him in place so that Stiles could keep tasting him, not even realizing that Derek was tasting back. Then, Derek moved, his mouth continuing the line of kisses down to Stiles' neck where his hands pushed back Stiles' shirt before settling his mouth against that spot and sucking hard on the flesh.

Stiles groaned, his body straightening in response so that his half-hard cock pressed against Derek through his shorts. "Derek," he groaned out, still holding the man in place, "this totally isn't fair, dude."

Derek sat up again, putting more of his weight against Stiles' cock and rolling his hips to drag pressure against him. "You think you're the only one?" He arched his back enough that Stiles could get a clear view of the outline of Derek's own hardened cock through his own pants.

"We should do something about these," Stiles said with a pleasured grimace as he rutted against Derek's ass, one hand coming up to brush against Derek's abdomen before tracing downward. Derek twisted back against him and Stiles groaned. "Something that doesn't make me come in my pants, preferably."

"Then take them off," Derek said, standing and beginning to undo his belt.

Stiles slid across the bed, only just noticing the satin sheets, before pulling off all of his clothes to leave them in an awkward heap on the floor. By the time he finished, Derek had already climbed naked onto the bed, kneeling in the center. "Oh, fuck. You're not supposed to be better than fantasies. You know that, right?"

"Stiles? Get over here and shut up." Derek leaned forward and pulled Stiles to him once more, their lips meeting again as they pressed together. There was a long moment of fighting for something that wasn't quite dominance, their hands sliding across each other and learning the play of muscles under smooth flesh. Stiles' hands slipped down, splaying across Derek's ass cheeks before gripping them. Derek grunted at the sensation and pressed forward until his own cock was against Stiles', his precome streaking a line on Stiles' thigh. "What do you want, Stiles?" Derek said the words against Stiles' shoulder before pressing his mouth there and sucking to make a bruise a mirror of the one currently purpling on his other shoulder.

Stiles let his head fall back at the feeling, groaning. "Quit telling me to shut up and then asking me questions." He brought his gaze back to meet Derek's. "I want whatever you'll give me. But, right now, I don't think my dick has patience for much, so..." He trailed off as one hand slid off Derek's ass to trail across his hip before sliding his fingers around Derek's cock while catching his own into the mix with his thumb and beginning to stroke. "Is this okay?"

Derek looked down at Stiles' long fingers wrapped around them, his breath already coming in soft pants, and nodded. "Yes," he said with an almost pained groan, his own hand coming to wrap around Stiles'. Together, they set a pace that was nearly as frenetic as their kissing, all open mouths and hot breath against even hotter skin. Stiles moved his own head to Derek's neck, biting down against the corded muscle with a grunt before spilling his release across Derek's stomach and their joined hands, stroking the wetness against Derek for a moment longer before Derek hissed and came against his own stomach as well, breathing in their mingling scents before dragging Stiles's hands up to his mouth, licking his palms and sucking on his fingers and just tasting. He finished cleaning Stiles and moved to nuzzle against his neck, careful not to drag his stubble against him too much. "Was that worth shutting up for?"

Stiles let out a little gasp of laughter, adjusting himself so that he could sit back. "Uh, yeah. That's kind of the understatement of the year." He swallowed roughly, then moved closer to Derek. "Also, you're still a little messy, and-" He cut himself off by pressing his mouth to Derek's stomach, licking at their come and swallowing it down, his heart beating faster as his tongue traced up the rough trail of hair leading down to Derek's cock before circling around his navel. When he pulled back a moment later, his lips were wet and puffy and the tips of his ears were red. "There. That's better."

"You're right. It's way better." Derek pulled him up again, kissing him and letting his tongue start to learn Stiles' mouth as well as it knew his own. He helped to lay them back against the bed at some point, putting one arm under Stiles' head as a sort of pillow. Legs tangled together and fingers traced over still vaguely sweaty back muscles until, somehow, they fell asleep. 

It was a little after noon when Derek woke up, smiling at the fact that his arm was asleep under Stiles' head. He carefully eased Stiles head up, replacing his arm with a pillow, before pulling the sheet up to cover him. It was warm enough in the loft that he didn't really need to worry, but he was moving his own heat away and didn't want to chance things. Stretching, Derek walked to the bathroom to finish the job of cleaning up that Stiles had done so enthusiastically earlier, laughing at the fact that his body had unconsciously not healed the mark of Stiles' bite. It was just a pale purple oval, but Derek brought his hand up to touch it, tracing the shape before leaning against the sink and just looking at himself. He wasn't sleep-deprived, wasn't recovering from something (or someone) that had nearly killed him, wasn't going on day 14 of having spoken to no one, and there was an amazing guy in his bed who was there willingly and without some ulterior motive. After everything that had happened for the last several years, it was a little overwhelming. Happiness wasn't supposed to feel like this, was it? Like something you could drown in and not even fight... Derek rubbed a hand over his face and cleared his throat, grabbing the washcloth he'd used and bringing it out to Stiles, pulling back the sheet again and softly beginning to wipe him down.

Stiles groaned, his eyelids twitching as he flailed one hand out to hit Derek's. "Hey." His voice was gruff, but he sounded happy, too. He opened his eyes slowly, looking up at Derek and letting a smile spread across his face. "Now, see, this is when I'm used to getting up in the summer."

Derek smirked and tossed the washcloth toward his hamper before crawling back onto the bed with Stiles. "Mornings are not exactly when I'm at my best, either."

"That wasn't you at your best? Well, damn. I guess I'm in for a treat." Stiles turned onto his side to face Derek, resting his head against his curled fist. A brief moment later, Derek hit him with a pillow. "Hey!"

"You deserved that," Derek said with his lips pulled tight to hide a smile. "Seriously, though, I'm glad to know that you like to run with the moon."

Stiles righted himself once more. "Run with the moon? Oh, like, stay up late? Yeah. Always have." 

Derek reached up to brush one hand across Stiles' side. "It's a little more than that. My mom used the phrase to mean pack when it wasn't just pack. It was everyone who knew and trusted and helped. If you're an ally of us, you run with the moon. I'm glad to have you as an ally."

"Because I'm not really part of your pack, am I?" Stiles moved closer to Derek, his smile fading slightly.

His fingers brushing Stiles' face now, Derek smiled brightly. "You're more than pack."

"What, like a mate? Because, uh, I was reading over stuff about wolves when I got done with all of the reputable looking stuff about werewolves and they all kind of mate for life." Stiles' heart beat faster and it was all Derek could do not to just hold him.

He forced himself to speak instead, his hand resting against Stiles' jaw. "It's not quite like that. Werewolves... we're as much human as we are wolf. There's a part of us that has a very human look at monogamy where it isn't interesting or viable to maintain a species. Then there's a part that does want to stake a claim on the person we love. Wolves... when their mate dies, they can choose a new one. Werewolves? When the connection dies, you can move on. I don't know that I really like that word, though. Mate. I bet Australian werewolves hate it even more."

"Somehow, the idea of Australian werewolves is just hilarious," Stiles said, smirking. "But, seriously, I think I like that. I don't want you to have to pine for me too much when I end up pissing you off enough that you dump me."

Derek gave in to the urge to hold Stiles, embracing him tightly against his chest. "Stiles, I've put up with you for this long. What makes you think it's actually a hardship?"

Stiles leaned his head back, his eyes widened. "Because I talk too much and do dumb things, mostly."

"And now that we're in this thing together, I have reliable methods of shutting you up. Besides, I think I'm ready to do dumb things with you." Derek kissed Stiles' forehead. "Would you like to play video games now? Or is lunch in our future?"

With a very serious look on his face, Stiles struggled out of Derek's arms and sat up. "I think... we need to order pizza and I need to beat you in Street Fighter." He grinned and rolled off the bed, pulling his clothes on quickly. He pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at it. "Hey, hold on a sec. I've got a voice mail." 

"Real funny," Derek said as he put his own clothes back on, watching as Stiles called to retrieve his message. "What's up?" he said as Stiles lowered the phone.

Stiles turned toward him, looking confused. "My dad wants me to bring you to dinner. Like, tonight."

"Should we skip the pizza?" Derek had his own phone pulled out, the number of his favorite pizza place already pulled up.

"No! We need pizza. If I'm making food for Dad, it's going to be kind of healthy and all of that and I don't inflict that on people who don't need it."

Derek rolled his eyes. "For you, I would eat tofu. Now, what do you want on your pizza?"

"Everything except onions. But, dude, seriously? I was talking grilled chicken, green salad, maybe some No Yolks noodles with a little heart-healthy spread and a sprinkle of parmesan. And steamed broccoli and cauliflower." Stiles sent off a text, ostensibly to his father, then shoved his phone in his pocket, pausing before pulling his hand back out. "That was a yes, yes?"

"Yes. And that menu actually sounds pretty good." Derek hit the send button on his phone.

Stiles let his fingers trail across Derek's arm as he walked past. "I knew Scott was lying when he said werewolves weren't supposed to eat broccoli."

After ordering the pizza, Derek followed Stiles out to the living room where he had already set up the PS3 and was sitting on the couch. "Hey, you have to remember to charge these controllers. The player 2 controller is fine, but the other's pretty dead. The cord's long enough to reach that you can still have player 1 if you want."

Derek remembered back to his childhood and gaming then and how no one actually wanted to cede control of the player 1 controller. He wasn't sure if things had changed drastically only a few years after that, or if Stiles was just doing something he saw as nice. Choosing to see it as the latter, Derek took the controller and sat down before choosing his character, hitting a few buttons to switch the costume. "I've been practicing, you know."

"Darn you and your... I was about to say lack of school, but it's summer vacation so it's not like I have it either. I'm a dork." Stiles chose his character and focused on the screen as the battle started, trying to get in a volley of blows from the get go.

"You had to remind me that I'm dating a high schooler!" Derek let his foot kick out to one side, catching Stiles' shin at the same time that he got in a body slam on screen.

Stiles yelped and kicked back, laughing as his hands slipped on the controller. "Are you saying you don't want young and nubile?"

"I'm saying I want barely legal and nubile, but you'll do until then." Derek stood up slightly, moving over so that he was sitting on top of Stiles as they played, or at least as much as he could with Stiles trying to shove him away.

Stiles let his fingers stop, Derek's next blow landing him a win. "Dude, if my age is gonna be that big an issue... I can come back next year and hope for the best."

Derek slid back onto the couch, groaning. "Look, you and I both know that between us? You're more the adult than I am. But, legally? There are issues. If your dad decided to press charges against me? That's a sex offender charge which means that the government decides that I need to be searchable which means that anyone who wants to find me can without any trouble. You've met some of the people who have managed to find me. I think you can see why I'm not looking to make it any easier."

"My dad..." Stiles cleared his throat. "Were you not listening to me this morning? My dad already told me to go out and make mistakes for myself as long as I make sure that I don't get caught. If he doesn't know, he can disavow all knowledge. So, yeah, for almost a year? I'll have to come over here or something to have special alone time with you, but he's not going to try to stop me as long as he can tell I'm not getting hurt."

"And yet he specifically wants me to come to dinner? I can't see where that doesn't end in him threatening me. Your dad doesn't exactly have warm and fuzzy feelings for me, Stiles!" Derek set his controller down and turned toward Stiles, his breathing heavy.

Stiles took a deep breath before putting his own controller down. "Yeah, but I do. The warmest and fuzziest. And I think that if my dad can see that a little? He's going to forget he ever arrested you for murder."

"Right. And pigs will fly." Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles', smiling suddenly.

One hand sliding around the back of Derek's neck, Stiles hummed his agreement. "Yes. This week the Dullahan and next week is flying pigs."

"And the pizza's here," Derek said, pulling away before grabbing his money and making his way to the door, returning a moment later with the box.

Opening the box, Stiles rubbed his hands together. "And now we're going to eat pizza and play video games and maybe make out some more and forget that you're afraid of my father. Let him surprise you tonight. I may butter him up a little with dessert, too."

Plucking a slice of pepperoni off of the pizza and folding it into his mouth, Derek nodded. "Okay. I'll try. I guess you'll want to head home before that to get dinner ready?"

"Yeah. An hour should give me enough time. But for now..." Stiles lifted a slice of pizza to his mouth and took a large bite, nose wrinkling up as a strand of cheese trailed between that bite and the slice. Derek lifted his hand and extended one claw to cut through the cheese, laughing as it coiled up and hit Stiles' chin.


	13. Chapter 13

After Derek sent Stiles off with a kiss and a time to be at the Stilinski house for dinner, he spent some time cleaning up. The sheets needed changing, there were still leftover dishes from breakfast, and he needed a shower. With those things done, he walked over to his closet, searching through for an appropriate outfit. In the end, he wore jeans and a plain white t-shirt. If he was going to go down, he was going to do it in relative comfort. 

The drive was over before he realized it, having spent the whole time worrying about what the evening might contain. He was early, too. He knew he had the option of driving around for a little while or something to kill time, but he'd never been afraid of jumping into the fray exactly. When it was the unknown, the best way to evaluate your options was to just put yourself in the middle of things where you could actually see what was going on. It didn't always work, but it was habit by now. 

As Derek rang the doorbell, a part of him wondered if he should have brought flowers or something. Except, the warm summer weather would have wilted them anyway and neither of the Stilinski men really seemed like flower people. He had four bottles of Goldschlager left that he could have brought over, but reminding the sheriff of his age didn't seem necessary. 

Stiles opened the door a second later, motioning for Derek to follow him. "Sorry, cooking. Come in!" He raced back toward the kitchen, sliding in socked feet toward the microwave where he picked up a whisk and looked at the microwave intently.

Looking around, Derek closed the door behind him and toed off his shoes as an afterthought before following Stiles. "Where's your dad?"

"He was taking a shower. Something about polyester uniforms?" The microwave dinged and Stiles pulled a plastic bowl out, whisking the brown mixture in it before popping it back in the microwave for another 30 seconds. "You're early. I thought I'd have time to finish dessert."

Derek leaned against the counter, shrugging. "I'd rather be here with you than avoiding the inevitable."

"Smooth." Stiles grinned and gestured to the fridge. "Hey, pull out the pie crust in there for me. Just put it there on the counter." 

As Derek did so, the microwave dinged again and Stiles pulled out the bowl, whisking the mixture once more. "What are you making?"

Popping the bowl back in the microwave once more, Stiles grinned. "Chocolate coconut custard pie."

"That sounds... amazing. But, seriously, in a microwave?" Derek raised one eyebrow.

"My mom taught me how to make microwave egg stuff. I guess she took some microwave cooking class back in the 70s? I mostly just make custard and lemon curd, though. You can make it on the stove, sure, but I burned myself enough as a kid that no one wanted me near the stove. So, microwave. You mix everything in a blender and then kind of cook it thirty seconds at a time until it's thick." Stiles grabbed a knife and cut several pieces of butter from a stick Derek hadn't noticed at first.

Derek nodded, amazed with how comfortable he was here even knowing that he was probably about to get some verbal abuse. "I love lemon curd," he said softly. "It's the best thing on pancakes."

Stiles grinned and moved closer to him, pressing a kiss to Derek's cheek. "Next time we have pancakes, I'll make some." He pulled away to take the bowl from the microwave once more, adding the butter in and whisking it until it was melted before grabbing a bag of toasted coconut and adding it in. "Oops. I meant to save some of that for the top. Oh well!" He mixed it in, then poured it into the pie shell. "Wanna taste?"

Dipping one finger into the bowl that only held streaked traces of the chocolate, Derek picked up a bit and tasted it, nodding in pleasure. "That is good."

Moving the pie back to the fridge, Stiles grinned and began to pull out other things from the fridge. "Does raspberry vinaigrette work for you?"

"Sure." Derek took the bottle from Stiles' hand as he pulled it from the door. "I should have asked already, but is there anything I can help with?"

"You can tell me why there aren't actually any witnesses to place you at the school today except for your friends." Sheriff Stilinski moved into the room suddenly and plucked a beer from the fridge, scoffing when Stiles immediately pulled it from his grasp and shoved a bottle of water toward him. "Really, Stiles?"

Stiles stood up, closing the door of the fridge. "Yes, really. And there was... stuff going on today. Supernatural stuff."

"Supernatural stuff like my son getting married to a werewolf in some whackadoo ceremony involving blood?" The sheriff opened the water anyway, taking a long swig.

Derek laughed. "No." He looked down at his ring and smiled. "I guess you noticed the rings? They're... they were for safety."

Letting out a loud sigh, the sheriff nodded. "Over dinner, I want the two of you to explain what actually happened today. Because, my serial killer case wrapped up way too easily to believe you weren't somehow involved."

Stiles look to Derek before looking back at his dad. "By the way, I made pie?"

"Good. Now, let's get on with this salad business so I can save room for that." The sheriff glanced at the table. "Oh, you already set the table?"

Clearing his throat, Stiles looked at Derek. "Glasses are in the cupboard to your left. Get lemonade for everyone? There's a pitcher in the fridge."

It only took a few minutes for everything to get to the table before Stiles took his seat and smirked. "Come on. Let's eat. I didn't slave away for nothing, you know."

"If you'd slaved away, I feel like a whip would've been involved. And unless the two of you have a different relationship than I think..." Sheriff Stilinkski took a drink of his lemonade as he took his seat, looking between Stiles and Derek.

Derek's mouth went dry as he sat down and picked up his lemonade, trying to take a sip and draining the whole thing instead. "Just... going to get a refill." He stood up and hightailed it to the kitchen, bringing the whole pitcher with him to the table and settling it in the center before sitting back down and digging into his salad.

"So, Derek, Stiles tells me that you bought hot dogs for Lydia Martin's party. Is that where all of this started?" Sheriff Stilinski stabbed a shredded carrot and ate it, his gaze locked on Derek.

"Dad, there was an actual murderer. It's just that there was also a Dullahan which is why you kind of had some missing body parts." Stiles shoved a bite of salad into his mouth, trying to add with his mouth full, "Headless horseman."

Shaking his head, the sheriff sighed. "And was Derek the one to shred apart the murderer?"

"No. My... my uncle was, I think." Derek tried to force himself to calm down, wondering why he felt so awkward answering questions he knew the answers to. "None of us knew until this morning that he even knew who it was. Or that Lydia did."

"Lydia knew who this guy was and she basically sent a werewolf out on a hit?" Pausing, the sheriff groaned. "Strawberry blondes. She was an intended victim, then. So, Dullahan. How did this end in Lydia breaking her ankle?"

Stiles set down his fork and took a deep breath. "Lydia's, um, kind of a banshee? And that's the favorite mate of the Dullahan. So, it was kind of building her a carriage out of bone and we lured it out to Sampson and Lydia jumped out of my Jeep into it and-"

"Which is how she broke her ankle?" Gesturing with a forkful of salad, Sheriff Stilinksi dripped dressing on the table and didn't seem to notice.

"No," Derek said, butting in. "She jumped out of the carriage when we got the Dullahan to the stream so that she'd be safe from the fire."

Stiles jumped in again. "Which we did at the water so it wouldn't get out of control or anything and the Dullahan's kind of only weak to gold so Lydia had this great idea to do a Molotov cocktail with Goldschlager and then Isaac and Scott stole its head and Allison helped cage it in with some arrows covered in gold foil and... it's ash now. Everyone's safe."

"You'd better be damned glad you made pie, kid." Rubbing his eyes with his fingers, the sheriff sighed. "And the rings were so this thing wouldn't come near you and don't mean anything."

His fork scraping against his plate as he chased the last bit of lettuce there, Derek shrugged. "I wouldn't exactly say that? They mean... that I wasn't willing to let something take us away from each other." He tried to steel his gaze as he looked at the sheriff, but could feel the tremble of his lower lip.

"Derek. My kid makes a lot of stupid decisions. He hides a lot from me. He gets himself into trouble constantly. But, I'm not in the habit of keeping him from making those mistakes for himself. Sometimes, the best things in life happen because you weren't thinking. I'm not exactly thrilled about your age, but you've done a great job of keeping some of his stupid decisions from becoming huge mistakes and even I can see you guys have a lot in common. Those years matter now to everyone but you, but when you get to my age? They don't mean much at all." His jaw tightened and he looked over to Stiles. "I'd give anything for one more year with your mom, kid. Except you. So, you have my blessing to do this thing as long as you stay smart about it."

Letting out a shaky laugh, Stiles pulled the rest of his dad's salad away from him. "Just for that, you may have an extra large slice of pie."

Sitting back in his chair, Derek looked up at the ceiling, trying not to focus on the ways his eyes burned. He didn't make it a habit of crying, but the atmosphere of the room seemed to be trying to drag it out of him. "This... is not what I was expecting tonight."

Stiles wiped his eyes, his lips in a tight line as he nodded. "I think my dad already did the threatening you thing a while back, and I'm pretty sure that still holds."

Loading up his dinner plate with chicken and noodles and vegetables, the sheriff smiled. "Stiles, you'd know more about how to kill him than I would. Besides, you could probably just ask Scott."

"Like I'd let Scott have the honors!" Stiles piled his own food onto his plate, pushing each dish over to Derek afterward. "I don't think I'll have to, though."

Slowly chewing a bite of broccoli, Derek smiled. "If I intentionally did something to hurt you, I'd bare my throat to the whole pack."

"And that's what I like to hear," Sheriff Stilinski said brightly, pouring himself more lemonade.

The rest of dinner passed by without much conversation. Plates were cleaned, even the last noodle scraped out of the bowl with a spoon, and Derek made a move to gather the dishes to bring them to the kitchen only to have the sheriff shake his head. "I maybe added extra cheese to the pasta so that Dad would do the dishes."

"Sacrificing your father's health for more time with me? Aren't you evil." Derek still picked up a stack of the dishes and brought them to the kitchen before rejoining Stiles.

"Well, yeah. I thought that was part of my charm." Stiles grinned an dragged Derek into the living room. "So, we'll wait a little bit longer on pie since I doubt it's cool enough yet. Until then... wanna watch something?"

Derek dropped down in one corner of the couch, smiling. "I'm already watching something. It's pretty charming."

Stiles rolled his eyes and sat down next to Derek. "You're such a dork. Seriously." He smiled and pulled Derek's arm around his neck. "We should get everyone together for camping at some point. Oh!" His eyes widened as he turned his head to look at Derek. "Tomorrow, let's wash our cars. I seem to remember someone saying something about a fantasy involving that and also my Jeep is totally covered in dirt from today. I mean, it's not exactly a bad look or anything, but I'm also not exactly trying to impress anyone with it."

Breathing in deeply, Derek nodded. "That wasn't even a week ago, was it?"

"No? I don't even remember. It all happened fast. Today has been... ridiculous with everything that happened. Oh, how was dinner? You ate it, but you didn't actually say-"

"Stop fishing for compliments, Stiles." Derek rubbed his hand against Stiles' shoulder. "Dinner was great. How was your breakfast this morning?"

Stiles let his eyes close as he smiled. "The pancakes were decent. The bacon was great. The homefries were amazing."

Derek smirked. "I'm glad you liked something I made."

"Wait, you?" Stiles laughed. "Well, thank you. If I'd known you had a way with potatoes, I might have said something earlier."

"It's the eyes. They respect me," Derek quipped, drawing a snort of laughter from Stiles. "See if I buy that curly fry maker now, Stiles."

Scoffing, Stiles poked Derek's side. "Oh, please. You know you will because you know I'll go crazy making them and then we'll have some crazy french fry party or something. Some joining of the packs or... running with the moon."

"Yeah." Derek's voice was low and throaty, the idea of it ridiculous but heart warming. "For the camping... Were you wanting to wait until Lydia can join us?"

Nodding, Stiles moved closer to Derek, leaning against him. "Yes? But, she's still going to heal kind of faster than most people, so we should be able to do that before school starts back."

"That should be fun." Derek leaned closer to Stiles' ear. "And this time, no Peter. He hates being left out of things, but I love doing it."

Stiles laughed, burying his face in Derek's shoulder. "Okay, dessert time before I try to mack on you in front of my dad."

Derek pushed Stiles away enough so that he could stand, pulling Stiles up after him. "I'm sure he'll appreciate that." He moved toward the kitchen, surprised when Stiles took his hand. "Is that a good idea?" he asked softly.

"Probably not," Stiles said, nudging him with his shoulder. "But I'm doing it anyway."

Sheriff Stilinksi already had the pie sitting out on the counter, a large piece cut for himself. "How big, Stiles?"

Licking his lips, Stile pointed to his dad's slice. "If you give me one a little bigger than yours, I'll pretend you're having a small piece."

Nodding, the sheriff cut it and served it up on a plate before turning to Derek. "And you?" He looked down at the pie again. "Screw it, you'll get one that's the same size as Stiles'. I'm happy to have you in his life if it makes him ease up on my diet."

"Dad, that's only because it's the summer. Besides, I'm making you eat so much produce that you didn't even realize. When fall comes, you're bringing salads for lunch again." Stiles dropped Derek's hand, grabbed his pie, and then Derek's. "Derek, grab us forks?"

Sheriff Stilinksi nodded toward a drawer and Derek opened it, grabbing three forks and handing one to the sheriff who took it gratefully and walked off before Derek followed Stiles back to the table and handed him one. He sat down and took a bite of the pie, groaning as the flavor filled his mouth. "If this is your way of showing your love, I'm all for it."

Stiles paused mid-chew to look at him, then swallowed with a bit of difficulty. "Maybe it is. Do you show yours with homefries?"

"Yeah." Derek kicked his foot against Stiles' under the table. "And by kicking your ass in video games."

Groaning, Stiles kicked back. "You have an advantage or something! Quick werewolf reflexes and vision and all of that. It's like cheating."

"Would you rather I let you win?" Derek took another large bite of pie.

Shaking his head, Stiles licked graham cracker crumbs off of his lower lip. "Nope. But I will learn all of the secrets and I will reign as King and allow you to continue on as my manservant until such time as I tire of you."

"That sounds like fun," Derek said, grinning. "You know we're actually pretty evenly matched though, right?"

"Yeah... That's kind of nice, too." Stiles ate the last bite of his pie and nodded as he swallowed. "Okay. Pie had. All crises diverted. What do you want to do now?"

Derek shrugged as he finished his own pie. "What sounds good to you? It's your place. I'm not sure what you've even got _to_ do."

"How about... cards?" Stiles folded his hands in front of him. "I play for peanuts. Well, for peanut M&Ms."

Derek grabbed Stiles' plate along with his own and stood. "Shuffle up and deal. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to read through your poker face, though." He took the plates back to the kitchen, returning to Stiles glaring at him. "What?"

"Just for that? We're playing Go Fish." Stiles grabbed a pack of cards and pulled them out, starting to shuffle as Derek watched the way his fingers moved. "Loser gets sprayed down with a hose tomorrow. Which, uh, are we doing that here?"

Nodding, Derek placed his hands flat on the table. "As I don't have a place to do that in my apartment? It would probably be a good idea."

"Okay. And now? You're going down." He dealt the cards and spread the rest on the table in front of them. "You go first since I was dealer."

Looking over his hand, Derek rearranged his cards before asking, "Do you have any kings?"

"I thought we already determined that I had you." Stile stuck out his tongue. "But go fish."

By the time the evening ended, Derek's face hurt from laughing and smiling, he had been utterly owned in Go Fish, and he was pretty sure something horrible was going to happen soon just to spite him. But, it didn't make their goodbye kiss any less satisfying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pie Stiles makes is kind of based on [this](http://www.salad-in-a-jar.com/family-recipes/amazing-microwave-custard-for-a-pie-or-tart-and-my-favorite-cookie-crust), but with a few Tbsp of cocoa powder added in and in a graham cracker crust. It is delicious. I made one last night when I had unexpected dinner guests and I'm still sad there's none left.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I don't really have a schedule for this, but I still feel like I'm late getting this out thanks to getting hit with a 24 hour bug right after spending a few days with a friend visiting.

Stiles was already outside mixing soap and water in a bucket when Derek arrived, dropping the hose and waving like a loon. Derek snorted, but double checked that his windows were rolled up all of the way before getting out of the car and approaching Stiles. "Morning."

"For another twenty minutes or so. You're a little late. And why in the world are you wearing jeans?" Stiles knelt back down to check that he had everything he needed for washing their cars.

Derek sighed. "Peter is the reason for both of those things. He decided that we needed an espresso machine and then promptly attempted to make something and dumped it in my lap before he could even try it." He glowered and let his thumbs slip into his pockets. "I'm pretty sure it was on purpose. So, anyway, I had to change and heal."

The look on Stiles' face was half horror and half amusement. "Oh my god, you got dick burn? Your lateness is totally allowed and I promise to kiss it better later." 

Huffing out a breath of laughter, Derek reached into the bucket and pulled out a sponge, dropping it on Stiles' head and grinning as the suds rolled down his face. "Stop making promises. If it happens, it happens. But, if it does happen? Then I am reciprocating."

Wiping the bubbles off of his face, Stiles smirked. "And I'm retaliating." He lifted the hose, squeezing the grip on the sprayer so that Derek was suddenly hit in the face with a blast of cool water, only noticing when it stopped just how much water was now drenching his clothes.

Letting out a sigh as he wiped the water from his face back through his hair, Derek said, "And now I know we're going to be bringing along water balloons and water guns when we go camping because this calls for a war I know you can't handle alone."

Standing up, his own shirt slightly translucent where the soap had dripped down, Stiles frowned. "Excuse me, but are you saying that when we have a water war that you are not going to be on my team?"

"You brought the war upon yourself, Stiles." Derek pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. "Now, how are we doing this? I'm more of a take it to a car wash kind of person rather than doing it myself."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's a car wash, Derek. It's not exactly rocket science."

"You do realize that me having a car of my own is only actually a relatively recent thing, right?" Derek poked Stiles' chest. "Actually, you probably didn't." He grabbed the hose from Stiles, starting to spray down the Jeep. "Rinse first, right?"

"Yeah. Rinse off as much as you can including underneath, then work from the top down to scrub and do the tires, then rinse again. I don't exactly wax my Jeep, but I'm pretty sure there's instructions on the stuff my dad uses for his car." Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek. "Why didn't you have a car?"

Focusing on loosening a section of dried mud from Stiles' fender, Derek shrugged. "I got my license at sixteen like almost everyone else, but that's when... Kate. The fire. And then there was just so much not staying in the same place very long... I'm not very good at this, Stiles."

"Uh, you've barely started, loser. Move closer to get more power out of the spray." Stiles' hands gripped at Derek's hips, pushing him forward.

"No. At... life?" Derek took the step forward anyway, though, taking deep breaths. "Stiles, I've had 3 relationships before this that I thought might mean something. Every single one of them ended up with people dying. I..."

Stiles let his hand slide along Derek's arm, directing his motions. "I know. I know about why your eyes glow blue or whatever, and I know that you had to kill someone you loved to save them from suffering more and I don't hold that against you. I would have done the same thing for my mom there in the end. And I know about Kate Argent and how much she deserved her death and I am very, very glad that the darach is dead. She might've been a pretty hot teacher, but I gotta say that it never seemed like you were into her enough to really matter."

"She got her power from the Nemeton; power that it only had because I had killed Paige. I think that and sex were the only reasons I felt anything for her at all. I didn't really know how I felt, but it felt important. Things that feel important always mean something." Derek moved around the Jeep slowly working away the mud and watching it sluice down to drip onto the driveway. "You feel important. Too important to lose."

"You seem to be under some kind of mistaken impression that I never would have done anything dangerous if I hadn't met you." Stiles followed Derek as he moved around the Jeep, blinking away the mist of water he got caught in when he leaned too far to one side. "But, if you remember? I was with Scott the first time I met you, out on the preserve to find Scott's inhaler because he'd dropped it right before getting bitten. And the reason we'd even been out there in the first place is because I was a horrible kid who heard about half of a body getting found and dragged Scott out in hopes of finding the rest. If nothing else? Getting involved with you just put me in a position to learn that I don't have to take care of myself all of the time."

Derek was still for a long moment, just letting himself feel Stiles' touch. "That wasn't the first time we'd met."

"It wasn't?" Stiles' eyes were wide.

"There was a birthday party years and years ago. Back before... everything. Steve Fitch, I think his name was? His dad worked with your dad and I was in his class. You threw cake at me."

"I was aiming for the clown!" Stiles burst out laughing. "That was you? Wow. That's... If I had known then that you would end up dating me, I might have... Wait, no. We were both too young for pretty much everything then." He wrapped his arms around Derek, nestling his chin on top of his shoulder. "I should throw cake at you again and see how things go this time."

Derek smirked, letting his free hand rest against Stiles' arm where it crossed his chest. "I'd make you lick it all off."

"This is happening. Not right now, but at some point in the future when the ants aren't as bad? Yes. That." Stiles gaze Derek a squeeze before pulling back. "Okay, I'm going to go to town with the sponge. Just try not to get me in the face with the hose!"

As Stiles walked toward the bucket of soapy water, Derek quickly aimed the hose toward him, soaking his back. "Okay."

"You're horrible, Hale!" Stiles scooped up a handful of bubbles, throwing them ineffectually through the air toward Derek with a laugh.

Between them, they got the Jeep scrubbed down and rinsed off, both of them getting pretty wet in the process. Stiles moved to mix up more soapy water as Derek started to spray down his Camaro, his shirt dripping from how many times Derek had 'accidentally' sprayed him. "Hey, I thought I said I was going to wash your car!"

Derek stopped spraying for a moment, confused. "I thought we were doing it together since we had made real plans."

"Yeah, but... I don't know. I mean, it's fine. I like doing stuff together. I think my mind's just wandering." Stiles made a face and suddenly pulled off his shirt, throwing it against the garage door with a soggy _thwock_. "I swear I took my Adderall this morning, but it totally doesn't feel like it."

His eyes taking in the way moisture clung to Stiles, Derek smiled. "Let your mind wander over here to me. I'll take care of it."

"You will, will you?" Stiles wrung out the sponge some and then started to wash down the Camaro. "How much do you charge per hour?"

Derek snorted, but played along. "I think it's a pretty reasonable rate. 3 kisses or ten bucks per hour. I'm giving you a discount because I'm nice like that."

Stiles scoffed. "Like 3 kisses are enough to make up for looking after my wandering mind!" He stopped and rolled his eyes. "We're being stupid. Let's get this done and we can head inside for ice cream."

"That sounds good." Derek looked up at the sky, frowning. "It's amazing how much cooler a little bit of cloud cover can make it."

"That's why I took off my shirt." Stiles stretched to wash the center of the hood, smirking. "Well, one of the reasons."

Directing the hose at him for a moment, Derek smirked. "I'm probably going to have to take my pants off once we get inside. They're already getting dangerously close to the chafe stage."

Sputtering, Stiles slipped across the hood of Derek's car a bit, pulling away with a yelp. "I take it back! You're totally dangerous for my health. The hooded vent of your car hood just tried to eat my nipple."

Derek's mouth opened as he took a breath to reply, but shut it again to move around the car. "You are okay, right?"

"Yeah. Just wasn't expecting that." Stiles leaned against the car with one hand, the other holding the injured area. "What are the odds?"

"For you? Probably pretty high." Derek pulled his own shirt off, tossing it over to land next to Stiles'. "Here. Let your mind wander."

Stiles licked his lips, eyes glazing over slightly. "Are you pimping out your abs so that my pain will be forgotten? Because I like that in a guy I'm going to be licking."

"Sometimes I think it's your whole mouth that gets you in trouble, but it's really just your tongue, isn't it?" Derek took the sponge out of Stiles' hand and worked at continuing to wash the car.

Stiles moved a moment later, grabbing a brush and a spray bottle of tire cleaner before going to town on the tire below where Derek had just cleaned. "Oh no. Now you know every one of my secrets." He rolled his eyes, but scrubbed away with a grin anyway. "Don't forget that you wanted to get the undercarriage!" Stiles called out as Derek worked his way around the corner of the Camaro. A moment later, water was spraying under the car and hitting his legs. "Yup. There we go."

"When is your dad supposed to be home?" Derek started back with the sponge, his feet appearing on the other side of the car as Stiles moved to the next tire. 

Sitting down on the driveway, Stiles wracked his brain for a moment. "He's staying late today for something, so probably nine or ten? We've got plenty of time for whatever we want to do."

"That is not enough time for Monopoly." Derek suddenly paused. "Is it raining?"

Stiles started to shake his head. "I think you're just drip- Nope. It's raining. Let's hurry up and finish this." His nose wrinkled as a raindrop hit it, but it got him working faster. "I'm sorry if I half-ass this!"

Derek laughed as he scrubbed around the gas hatch. "Don't be. We can do this again sometime."

Moving on to the third wheel, Stiles smiled. "Good. I'll start doing all of your car washes and you can learn to make curly fries for my payment, and then we can make out so I can work off the curly fries."

"I knew you were a brilliant strategist, but you're surpassing yourself now." Derek leaned over to dip the sponge back into the bucket that he'd been dragging with him, raindrops laying light on his skin and catching the light that still seemed to stream through the clouds.

"Yup." Stiles hurried on to the last wheel as Derek finished up and grabbed the hose, starting to rinse things off. "You know, I think I actually checked the weather forecast for today and there was only like a ten percent chance of rain. Things are going against the odds today. I don't like that."

"It could be worse," Derek said, grimacing at noticing how wet his shoes were now. "Maybe this is just luck. We had very good luck with the Dullahan, so we're getting little bits of bad luck now." He waited a moment for Stiles to finish the last tire before rinsing down the last half of the car. "I think we should still be cautious, but luck can be a perception issue. If everything is going well, something small that wouldn't normally bother you can feel like bad luck."

There was a flash of lightning followed by a boom of thunder a few seconds later, and the light rain turned into a sudden downpour. Stiles groaned as he moved all of the car washing gear against the garage door, his back against it and looking up at where rain was already dripping from the overhang. Derek was beside him a moment later. "I think we can just leave all of this out here until the storm's over," Stiles said. "And now, let's get our butts inside."

Derek grabbed their wet shirts and led the way, making room for Stiles before closing the door, immediately starting to take off his pants. "Come on, get undressed." He dropped their shirts at his feet as he struggled out of his shoes and then worked on sliding tight, wet denim down his legs.

Stiles kicked off the flip flops he'd been wearing and slipped off his shorts, taking only a moment to hesitate before grabbing onto Derek's pants and trying to help pull them off. "Tell me the tight pants are just to make me look at your ass and not some kind of self-imposed chastity belt."

Growling, Derek finally kicked free of one pant leg and then the other, grimacing as he pulled off his wet socks. "I think it's time to do some laundry."

With a shiver, Stiles nodded. "And maybe a shower because I forgot how much air conditioning can suck when you're wet." He picked up the pile of wet clothes and headed to the laundry room just off from the kitchen, dropping everything into the washing machine and adding soap and fabric softener, grinning as Derek dropped a lone sock in. 

"You dropped that," Derek said, one hand on Stiles' back. "Should we go ahead and wash our underwear, too?"

Stiles looked Derek over, nodding already. "Yes. Washing clothes and then a quick hot shower... together because I'm stupid and already started the wash... and then we'll see where we go from there."

They shimmied out of wet boxers and added them to the load of laundry, shutting the lid and moving toward the bathroom beside Stiles' bedroom, Stiles laughing when Derek put his hands on his butt to try to get him to go faster up the stairs. "Hey! That is not gonna let us have a quick shower."

With a playful growl, Derek picked Stiles up and slung him over his shoulder as he walked the rest of the way to the bathroom, definitely aware of Stiles' dick bumping against his shoulder. When he felt Stiles pinch his ass, he grinned. "Enjoying the ride?"

"All of the blood is rushing where it's not supposed to go right now," Stiles said with a groan, his hands sliding against Derek's back. "I'd say put me down, but I'm really enjoying this because you are way warmer than I am."

"Werewolf," Derek said, finally lowering Stiles back down after stepping into the bathroom. 

Stiles nodded and moved over to start the water, hands testing the temperature for a few moments before nodding and climbing under the spray. "Come join me!"

Derek was right there, closing the shower curtain behind him. "I didn't really need a shower, Stiles."

"Just in case," Stiles said, sucking his lower lip into his mouth for a moment. "Besides, I wanted to... Oh fuck." He dropped to his knees in the shower, grunting with the impact, and let his hands come to rest on Derek's hips. Derek hissed inwardly as he watched Stiles' mouth draw closer to his cock. 

He howls, the sound echoing in the confines of the bathroom, when Stiles suddenly swipes his tongue across the top of Derek's cock. The sound still seems to be reverberating when Stiles presses a kiss to the head and then opens his mouth wide and takes Derek in. His knees suddenly feel weak and he tries to find things to hold on to which only leads to him leaning forward over Stiles with one hand against the wall and the other clutching softly at Stiles' hair. "Yeah, see? Definitely the tongue that gets you in trouble." He shudders as Stiles' teeth just barely graze against his shaft as he pulls back. 

It's obviously Stiles' first time, his technique leaving a lot to be desired and his pace awkwardly unstable. But, the sounds he's making and the way his fingers dig into Stiles' hips and the way his own arousal is so evident... Derek can't say anything. There's time later for them to learn and practice and anything else, but right now his entire world is focused on Stiles Stilinski and the fact that his tongue is tracing a slalom trail along Derek's cock as he starts to apply suction, his lips tight and his body tense as he started to get the hang of things and began to work himself lower onto Derek's shaft. The pace steadied and Stiles looked up at him and Derek did all he could to try to hold back, but it felt like a pathetically short time before his fingers tightened in Stiles' hair and he pulled him back, his come splashing across Stiles' chest. He sagged against the wall for a moment, noting that the water had cooled some but still wasn't cold. "You..."

Stiles grinned and pulled himself up, rubbing at his jaw. "Sorry. That was on my bucket list."

"You have a bucket list?" Derek let his eyes shut for a moment, frowning at the gruffness of his own voice.

"Yup. Hanging with werewolves might not actually put me in more danger, but it makes me aware more of danger so I started my bucket list early. And now I finally have something to cross off of it." Stiles pulled Derek away from the wall so he could move in front of him, his hands rubbing against his own chest as he rinsed off.

"Did you..." Derek shook his head and buried his face against Stiles' neck when the last vestiges of the hickeys he'd left were. He could smell that Stiles had come, the scent of them as thick as the steam in the room. "What's next on the list?"

Stiles turned off the shower and pulled back the shower curtain, grabbing two towels and handing one to Derek. "Either skydiving or..." His tongue came out to moisten his lips again. "I just want to remind you that we were talking about how there could totally be some big nasty thing coming which is what prompted the not exactly asking, but I was wondering... do you top? Bottom? What?"

Derek ran the towel over his head enough to get most of the water from his hair before answering. "What makes you think I wouldn't do both?"

"So... I'll break that into a part A and a part B on my list, then." Stiles grinned. "Come on. I've at least got some pajama pants that'll fit you until our clothes are all dry."

"Please tell me they don't have Batman on them." Derek stepped out of the shower and moved toward Stiles' room.

"Of course not!" Stiles moved past him to dig in a drawer, pulling out a black pair of pajama bottoms that he tossed toward Derek. A second later, he pulled out another pair. "Batman is mine." His grin grew even larger.


	15. Chapter 15

When they were both mostly dry and clad in pajama bottoms, Stiles hooked his fingers together as he looked at Derek, his eyes narrowed. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"Probably check to see if things can go in the dryer," Derek said, his eyebrows lifting. "And then you said something about ice cream?"

"Definitely." Stiles looped one arm around Derek's waist, pulling him out of the bedroom. "So, we only have low fat neopolitan right now, but there is chocolate syrup and-" He cut himself off when there was a loud crash outside followed by all of the lights going out. "And since I think a power line just got knocked over, we might just need to eat _all_ of that ice cream."

Derek pushed past him to head to the living room, pulling aside the curtains to look outside. "It wasn't knocked over. It was hit by lightning."

Stiles rushed to join him, leaning close to Derek in order to see. "Dude, seriously? We should go outside to look."

"In a lightning storm? No. We should make sure we have everything we need for survival. Flashlights, fresh water, non-perishable food?"

"My dad is the sheriff. Do you really think we don't have survival stuff stashed around the house? We even have three fire extinguishers, Derek. Three!" Stiles held up three fingers to emphasize the thought. Another crash of thunder sounded. "I will, however, go ahead and grab a flashlight just in case." He headed to the kitchen, pulling one out of the drawer. It was large and possibly police issue and could easily double as a weapon. He set it on the table before turning to the fridge and pulling out their dessert and then grabbing spoons. "We, Mr. Hale, are now going to be heathens and eat directly from the carton."

Derek picked up the chocolate syrup and opened it, starting to drizzle it over the ice cream when Stiles pulled off the lid. "You said the weather hadn't called for a storm like this, right?"

Stiles was already digging his spoon into the ice cream. "Um, yes?"

"This is a pretty bad storm for meteorologists not to notice at all." Derek shoveled a spoonful of chocolate-drenched strawberry into his mouth, letting it melt on his tongue some.

Stiles took a few quick bites of ice cream, then pushed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "Okay, brain freeze, but I'm gonna go grab my phone just in case Dad sent me a message." He ran off and returned a moment later, looking worried. "Dad sent me a message asking if I know of anything that only leaves behinds the heart and liver of a person." Looking up at Derek, Stiles exhaled in a shudder. "Do you?"

It takes him a moment, longer than he thinks it should, for a memory to drag itself forth. Laura had loved horses as a kid and Derek had teased her about it sometimes, even going so far as to research in order to have fodder there. "Kelpies," he said finally, dropping his spoon back in the ice cream carton so he could put his elbows on the table and lean his head in his hands. "The Dullahan's horses. I didn't even fucking look at them."

"Are you saying that Mr. Headless Horseman had accomplices?" Stiles turned back to his phone, sending off a message to his father and glad that he'd kept the phone charging as long as possible.

"Kelpies... I don't know a lot about them. They're kind of water horses, but they catch people and eat them. Still, they can be tamed pretty easily... as long as you're fast enough to get a bridle on them bearing a cross and don't mind feeding them a person. They eat it all, even bones, except the heart and liver."

Stiles dug into the ice cream again. "You know how to catch them, but do you know how to kill them?" Derek shook his head. "I get the feeling I'm about to go over my data plan." He pushed the ice cream carton back toward Derek. "You eat. I'm gonna research."

Derek ate a few more bites of ice cream as he watched Stiles tap away at things on his phone. "The myths about them... they never seemed entirely clear. I've never actually seen one before. Some said the horses were blue with seaweed instead of hair and had their hooves on backward, but others said they looked like regular horses but if you touched them it was like adhesive so that was how they dragged you with them under the water."

Nodding, Stiles looked up. "There's also something talking about them having some power in manipulating precipitation to make sure there's running water in an area which, well, yeah." Stiles sucked his upper lip into his mouth, nearly chewing on it. "Okay. Assuming we're right and the Dullahan had actually tamed these things or whatever with bridles, that means they've gone kind of feral or whatever without an owner, I guess? But, we don't want to control them. If I need a workhorse, that's why I keep werewolves around." He paused. "Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, we want them stopped. Dead. Desiccated."

"Have you found anything about how to actually do that?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'm attempting to look through a bestiary in Google Docs and search the internet over storm-ravaged 3G, dude. It's slow going."

"Sorry. I know I'm impatient." Drek stood up and moved around the table, nearly draping himself across Stiles' back. "I just hate when it feels like something's going to go wrong and I'm right about it."

Pressing a kiss against Derek's forearm where it crossed near his face, Stiles let out a soft laugh. "Hey, remember that Lydia's the one who's supposed to feel stuff coming. You're my wolfman. You don't have to have prophesies, too."

Derek just lowered his mouth to rest against Stiles' shoulder reading over his shoulder. He stayed there, knowing his breath had to be hot against Stiles' skin, knowing the last of the ice cream was melting down in the container, and fighting his urge to rush outside to try to track down the threat before it could find them. He heard the increase in Stiles' heartbeat and jerked his head up. "Did you find something?"

"Maybe?" Stiles turned to look at him, his eyes wide. "I've only found one mention of it so far, but... standing water. They live in rivers and oceans because even a puddle can take away their power. They make it rain because that water is in motion." He swallowed roughly, his jaw squared suddenly. "We were making puddles earlier. What are the chances they're coming after us for killing their owner in some kind of weirdo Stockholm Syndrome thing?"

"Higher than I'd like." He stood up and looked down at himself. "Great. I get to go save the world in a pair of pajama pants."

Stiles snorted and stood up next to him. "Excuse you? I've got the Batman pants. Clearly I will be the one saving the day." He looked over toward a window. "We've got raincoats and boots in the garage. They're fortunately right next to where there are something like eight cases of bottled water."

"You can't make a Molotov Cocktail out of water, Stiles." Derek led the way over to the door to the garage, trying to plan things out without quite enough knowledge to make it make sense in his head.

"Yeah, you kinda can!" Stiles brought the flashlight with him, turning it on as they stepped through the doorway. He forged forth toward a workbench and shoved the flashlight into Derek's hand. "Keep that pointing right here." He adjusted Derek's hands and nodded in satisfaction before walking off. He returned a moment later with one of the cases of bottled water, setting it on one side of the bench. He dug around in a drawer of the workbench and came up with a utility knife. "We don't need to burn them. We just need to get them wet, right?" He pulled a commercial paper towel from a box that Derek hadn't even noticed, used the utility knife to cut off the top, and shoved half of the paper towel in. "Think this'll work?"

Derek nodded. "I hope. Can you make five more?"

"Already on it," Stiles said as he cut off another bottle top. Derek handed him the towels and just held on to the flashlight until there were a half dozen of the bottles readied. "And now, rain gear!"

The raincoats turn out to be more like thin yellow ponchos, but the sheriff's boots fit Derek well enough. Stiles grabs four of the prepared bottles, leaving Derek to grab the last two along with the flashlight. Taking a deep breath, Stiles fumbled with the mechanism to open the garage door with the power out, steeling himself for heading out into the storm. It was a little more difficult actually seeing it again, watching as lightning strung between the clouds and the rain fell hard enough to make nearly everything a river. "I heard horses," Derek said softly, looking toward the end of the street.

Stiles nodded and moved all four bottles he was carrying under one arm while he pulled the hood of his poncho up with the opposite hand. "Let's do this." He reached over and pulled Derek's hood up, too. "I... love you, even if you end up having to cut your hand off to get away from creepy adhesive horses."

Derek leveled him a blank look. "That's the sweetest thing you've ever said." He set down the flashlight and grabbed one of the bottles of water from Stiles so they each had three. "I love you, even if _you_ end up having to cut _my_ hand off to get away from creepy adhesive horses."

"Take me, I'm yours," Stiles deadpanned. He licked his lips and then leaned toward Derek, kissing him softly. Derek joined in on the kiss, even though they were both in ponchos and holding multiple bottles of water. When they pulled away, Stiles grinned. "I was willing to cut your arm off a few years ago. I think I could manage a single hand if I got to keep the rest of you." He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. "Let's go send a couple of horses to the glue factory."

With a snort, Derek stepped out into the rain, careful of the things they'd left in the driveway as he made his way toward the street. Stiles was right behind him. It took several minutes of waiting before he heard another whinny and could finally see the pair of horses running so hard toward them that foam dripped from their sides. "You take the one on the left?"

"You got it." Stiles ran past him and Derek was quick on his heels. 

Neither of them had their first shots hit. The downpour made it difficult enough to see or hear, plus the kelpies were damn fast. One of the kelpies came after Derek before he could ready another bottle, and he managed to duck out of the way, but his poncho was still caught to the flesh of the kelpie and it started to pull him along, choking him with the plastic. It made it easy, though. Allowing himself to relax into it, he took one of the bottles and smashed it against the flank of the horse, gasping for breath when the tension left the poncho and there was suddenly just a pile of greenish ooze on the ground.

The rain started to let up slightly, enough that Stiles seemed to get his bearings. He tore off his poncho and when the kelpie came near again, he slapped it against its side with one hand and squeezed the water bottle with the other, laughing as it seemed to collapse into the same kind of ooze that Derek had had to walk through carefully before trying to run to Stiles. "Did you see that?"

Derek nodded and looked up at the sky where sunlight was already starting to peek through the retreating clouds. "I'm more interested in that."

"Let's get back inside so I can tell my dad not to expect any more hearts and livers to pop up soon unless something changes."

"You could also try to call your friends about camping. At least find out how Lydia's doing." Derek wrapped his poncho-covered arm around Stiles' bare shoulders. "You have kind of loved her longer."

Stiles snorted, but leaned against Derek's side and took a very careful swig of water from his last bottle after pulling out the towel. "I was never good enough for her. But, it doesn't matter. We're friends now, we're allies of your pack, and I got what I wanted in the end."

"You're wrong, Stiles," Derek said, his thumb tracing up and down on Stiles's arm. "She was the one who was never good enough for you. I'm not either, but I'm getting to be a pro at fooling myself."

Smiling, Stiles moved toward the garage once more where they kicked off their boots and Derek hung up his poncho. "Then I guess I'm fooled, too." He picked up the flashlight that Derek had left there and flipped it back on to lead the way back to the kitchen. "You know, I was so focused on your Molotov Cocktail thing that I didn't even think of the fact that that would have been awesome practice with water balloons for when we do go camping."

"It worked. That's all that matters." Derek's nose wrinkled up as he looked at the melted ice cream left on the table, though it turned into a laugh when Stiles picked up the carton and drank from it. "Seriously?"

Stiles licked his lips and swallowed. "What? I like my ice cream to get a little melty."

"That's a little melty like you're a little horny." Derek looked down at his wet pants. "And we should probably change again."

Tossing their used spoons in the sink and throwing away the carton from the ice cream, Stiles said, "Wanna go make it worth it?" He moved closer to Derek, his hands already pressing against Derek's abdomen. "When there's a lot of rain there's a lot of accidents, plus all of the stuff that the power being out will bring. My dad's gonna be busy for a while."

"Are you asking me to sodomize you in your father's house?" Derek knew he wasn't saying no, but the coy smile on Stiles' face was making not immediately saying yes very difficult.

"Hey, you can be on the receiving end of the sodomy if you want. As long as I'm with you, I think I'm probably going to be pretty satisfied with either." Stiles pressed himself against Derek's chest, but didn't move more than to let his lips brush Derek's skin as he said the last few words.

Suddenly, Derek had Stiles up on his shoulder once more and was carrying him to his room, tossing him in the center of the bed. "I want you to come in me," Derek said, stripping out of his pants and then grabbing Stiles' by the hems and pulling, smirking at the yelp Stiles made as he quickly pulled the waistband wide to avoid contact with his cock. "Where's the lube?"

"Uh, I'm actually all out?" Stiles cleared his throat and gestured to his desk. "But there's a giant bottle of aloe vera gel which several sources on the internet have assured me is a reliable substitute."

Grabbing the bottle, Derek knelt on the edge of the bed and squirted some of the gel into his hand, feeling it for a moment before nodding and reaching back to spread it across his entrance, his fingertips barely delving inside. "I've imagined this a few times, you know." He pressed two of his fingers tightly together, his back at an awkward angle as he pressed the fingers inside, curling them as he worked himself back on them with a soft groan. "Now, do you want me to ride you or would you rather do something else?"

Stiles mouth hung open slightly as he watched Derek, his breathing heavy. "Yeah. Ride me." His eyes went wide as Derek's aloe vera coated hand began to stroke him as he straddled Stiles' legs. "You are pretty much the hottest thing since the sun."

Derek moved his hands to either side of Stiles' chest and moved forward carefully, lowering himself down so that Stiles' cock pressed against his ass. "You must be pretty hot yourself if I don't burn you." He shifted his hips slightly until he could feel the head of Stiles' cock pressing against his entrance. Ever so slowly, he started to ease backward, his eyelids lowering as he did so.

"Maybe that's what the aloe vera's for," Stiles said, his voice a raspy mess. His fingers were buried in the sheets, but the very of his torso couldn't seem to keep still, his back arching minutely as Derek slowly filled himself with Stiles' cock. Only when he bottomed out did Stiles gasp and move his hands to Derek's hips. "Fuck, Derek, I... Wow. You feel kind of amazing."

Derek grinned as he worked himself into a low crouch, his body adjusting easily to the position. Without further conversation, he began to work himself along Stiles' length, soft growls emitting from him that wove themselves in with the gasps and moans that Stiles wasn't hiding. He let his hands rest on Stiles' chest for balance, twisting himself slightly on every other downstroke and letting out a long groan as he finally found the right angle of hit his prostate.

At the sound of Derek's groan, Stiles looked up at him, looking overwhelmed by sensation but otherwise enthusiastic. He brought his hand up to his mouth and plunged his fingers inside before pulling them out a moment later, shining with spit. He wrapped them around Derek's cock and began to stroke.

Derek couldn't say whether he came a few moments later because he felt Stiles spill inside of him, or if he'd simply found his orgasm and pulled Stiles along with him. It didn't matter. He slid forward and let himself climb off of Stiles before laying beside him. "You okay?"

Stiles covered his face with his hands, laughing. "Am I okay? Uh, yeah. Did the deed. Had the hottest guy ever riding me like my cock was making him high. Fuck, Derek. You are definitely my anti-drug."

Tracing one hand down the center of Stiles' chest, Derek smiled. "Adrenaline," he said softly. "It's a great thing for when you're kind of exhausted. I'm glad we could reap the benefits." He yawned softly and laughed, pressing his forehead against Stiles' shoulder. "I guess it's a good thing we showered earlier so there are wet towels in the room."

Groaning, Stiles sat up and reached down to get one, wiping himself off before handing it to Derek. "Do you want Transformers or Green Lantern this time?" He stood up and stumbled his way to the drawer of pajama pants.

"Transformers," Derek said as he wiped away the worst of his mess. "For the irony." Pants hit him in the face and he pulled them on, curling back up in the bed where Stiles joined him a moment later. "Nap time?"

Stiles gave a sleepy nod as he pressed his back against Stiles. "Post-coital cuddling is encouraged."

Kissing Stiles' neck and letting one arm come to rest on his hip, Derek said softly, "You got it."


	16. Chapter 16

"I can't believe how crazy this summer got," Allison said as she held a marshmallow low over the coals of the fire crackling on the beach.

Lydia laughed, one leg canted out to one side so her ankle brace wouldn't get too warm. "I can't believe Stiles is officially jailbait."

His own marshmallow well and truly on fire, Stiles pulled it toward him and blew out the flame before replying. "I see how it is. I help get rid of your boyfriend and suddenly you're making fun of me for mine."

Scott handed over two graham cracker squares with chocolate already wedged in between. "Here, man. S'mores make most things better." As Stiles set it against his knee in order to crush his blackened marshmallow inside, Scott smiled. "We're all pretty happy for you, you know. And, dude? You got to be a badass a couple of times."

Derek lifted the S'more from Stiles' knee and took a nibble of the melted marshmallow leaking out of the side. "Totally a badass."

"Hey!" Stiles stole his S'more back, pouting. "If you wanted one, you could have roasted a marshmallow yourself."

"That's kind of difficult with you sitting on me." Derek let his fingers dig into Stiles' side, tickling him.

Isaac let out a short bark of laughter and leaned back to reach the cooler, pulling out a soda. "Are we all really going to fit into that tent?"

Stiles looked over to the tent, shrugging. "We should? It said it was an eight person tent so as long as we don't leave everything everywhere..." He had tried to talk Derek into multiple smaller tents, but then had realized that anything fun that could happen in tents that required their own tent wouldn't really matter because, well, werewolf hearing. 

Allison finished cooking her marshmallow and held out her hand to Scott for graham crackers and chocolate. "We should be fine. I like all of you guys so even if we have to cuddle, it shouldn't be too bad." She gave Scott and Isaac a soft smile.

Nibbling at a graham cracker, Lydia stared out at the lake for a long moment, her other hand coming up to clutch at her necklace. "I wonder what's going to happen next year." There was enough silence that she looked around at them all. "What? It's always something."

"Whatever it is, maybe it can wait until the winter." Derek loaded up Stiles' stick with a fresh marshmallow, smiling softly.

Sticking the marshmallow into the fire, Stiles grinned. "What? So we can all go skiing together at the end? I like that plan." He pulled the flaming marshmallow from the fire and held it up in front of Derek who blew the flame out. "Scott! Cracker me."

Handing over another stack of graham crackers and chocolate, Scott grinned. "I still can't believe we managed to do this before school starts back. Next week, man. It's gonna be weird to be seniors."

"Yeah. But it'll be nice. This time next year? So many things will be different." Isaac tossed the rest of his graham cracker into the fire, watching it spark before catching on fire.

Clearing his throat, Derek held Stiles close with one arm. "We should probably get some sleep. The water war is tomorrow and I don't want to win by default." He bit into his S'more, promptly getting crumbs all over his shirt.

Stiles slid off of his lap and shook his head. "Nope. Not yet. You and I are going for a little walk." He pulled Derek up to a standing position, brushing the crumbs off of him, and waved to everyone else. "You guys do whatever! We'll be back in a bit."

They were far enough away from the fire that the light of it was no longer really reaching them when Stiles finally spoke again. "I'm still amazed by you, you know. Even though you have marshmallow on your lips."

Reaching up, Derek wiped at his lips. "Is that supposed to be sweet?"

Stiles gripped his hand, swinging it back and forth as they walked. "This is. You and me and a romantic walk on the beach." He leaned his head against Derek's shoulder. "I'm so glad I only really have a couple of AP courses this year and everything else is just stupid stuff. I want to keep being able to have time with you."

"You will." Derek kissed Stiles' forehead. "Remember, I don't have a job right now so when you're free? I'll be free."

His pinky rubbing against Derek's ring, Stiles grinned. "It won't be enough." He kicked at the sand in front of them, still leaning heavily on Derek. "I mean, we'll manage. We always do. I'll drop lacrosse or something."

"No." Derek nudged his hip against Stiles'. "You'll be a senior so you'll be more likely to play. And I can always come to your games."

"I don't know, would you really be willing to be my cheerleader? You know, standing there with my dad and shaking a pom-pom as you call my name..." Stiles turned his head to give Derek a smug grin. "You could put on a skirt, too."

Derek rolled his eyes, but pulled Stiles closer. "I am not wearing a skirt in public for you."

Stiles laughed softly and looked up at him. "That's not a no to wearing one at some point in private, though. Right?"

"Shut up and sit." Derek laughed and pulled Stiles over to a log on the beach, sitting down on it. "Thank you, by the way."

Sitting next to Derek, Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. "Why are you thanking me?"

"For all kinds of reasons." Derek picked up Stiles' hand and pulled it into his lap, stroking along his fingers and brushing against his ring. "What do you say for your birthday... if everything is still doing well by then... we let these actually mean something?"

"Seriously?" Stiles leaned against him, inhaling slowly. "No. I'm not getting married on my birthday. But engagement then? That could work for me. I don't even want to really think about marriage until I'm out of high school, at least. I don't know what I'm doing after that, even."

Derek cupped Stiles' hand in his own. "Whatever you do, I'm fine following along. Almost all of my pack... they're closer to you than they are to me."

Shrugging, Stiles kicked at the sand in front of them. "It's too early to talk about that. Right now, we've had a few whirlwind weeks of summer following a few years of working up to even being able to be honest with each other. I'm not stupid enough to believe that this is some kind of guaranteed happily ever after." He paused. "But I'm stupid enough to hope."

Standing suddenly, Derek grabbed Stiles in a hug, spinning him around until Stiles was laughing loudly. "I'm stupid enough to hope, too," Derek said as he let Stiles back down. "You always make me stupid. I can't think when I'm around you. Or maybe I just think too much."

"Whatever it is that you do? I like it." Stiles paused to look back at everyone sitting around the campfire still. "We keep coming back to that running with the moon thing. The moon... it brought us together. I mean, just like in the way that werewolves were suddenly a thing in my life and then you were and there were things happening... But, I'm glad. I'm glad that I run with the moon."

"Stiles..." Derek's voice dropped low, his fingers smoothing along Stiles' arms. "The moon runs with you." He shrugged. "I don't know how or why, but you became something too close to my everything to ignore."

Inhaling sharply, Stiles leaned toward Derek. "You're a big sappy dork and I love it." He looked up at the sky, grinning at the moon and the stars. "Water war happens tomorrow. Are you still going to be on the other team?"

"Yeah. I owe you a war and you're going to get one." Derek let his fingertips trail under the edge of Stiles' shirt. "You haven't had enough of water this summer though?"

"Lakes and pools and rivers and rain? It's summer. Water's how you keep cool." Stiles groaned suddenly. "I just realized that I should probably actually thank Peter at some point for inviting me along that day. If everyone else had been here then, I don't know that things would have gone the same way."

His arms still wrapped around Stiles, Derek shrugged. "You've made him dinner a few times and he couldn't shut up about the talents of my 'little wifey'. I don't think you owe him anything else."

"Oh, please! I think we have proven that we're equal-ish. Like, I'll never be able to just hold up a corner of a vehicle for funsies, but I think I make up for being human in other ways." Stiles turned to face the lake, one arm wrapping around Derek's back.

"There's nothing wrong with being human, Stiles. I like that. You're not indestructible, so you fight even harder. Having you around makes me remember that I don't have to be, either. It's kind of nice." He let his head rest against Stiles'. "And don't think I mean that you make me weak."

Stiles reached up to stroke Derek's hair. "No, not at all." He smiled suddenly. "I think those are fireflies. Do you remember back when you could still find some that would glow?"

"Yeah. I'd cup them in my hands and let them crawl around before I let them go." Derek twisted his head until he could kiss Stiles' wrist. "You?"

"Just a few. I was more the type to put them in jars in my bedroom." Stiles looked over to the fire once more where Scott and Isaac were dumping sand on it. "We should get back and help put everything away."

Derek pulled Stiles close once more. "In a few minutes. We took out the kelpies. They can handle this."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Well, then you'd better just make out with me until you're ready to let me go."

"So, never?" He let his fingertips trail down the side of Stiles' face. "I think I can handle that," he said softly, before leaning in for the first of many consecutive kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This is officially the longest thing I've written. That's especially amazing to me because I had only planned for this to be around 1000 words! Still, thank you everyone who has been following along and leaving comments and kudos and subscribing and bookmarking. <3 It's really made me a happy little fangirl. Feel free to come interact with me over on my [tumblr](http://superhappygenki.tumblr.com)!


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